Death In The Stocks

Death in
the Stocks

Books by

GrORGETXn HEYER

ThfiUets

Dr Ain IN Hit STOCKS
IHF DNIINISH D CIUF
wm SHOOT \ bUILER’
HI HOLD, HLRE'S POISON
IHLl TOUND HIM DF^D
Nt) WIND f>] BLAMl
A Bl LNT INSIPI MLNl
prv|H\LI OW
INVIOIS OSCA
OUPLJCM’ DIAIH

Historical Roinan^j

THFSF OLD SHADES
IHr CONVINIINT MAKRIAUI
BFAUV \J Ln
POWDER AND PATCH
DtML’s Cl B
llfl MASQlirRADLRS
RIGINCY BUCK
THE lAlISMAN RING
LONQULROR
AN INTAMOl’S ARMY
FOYAL ISCAPF
llir SPANISH HRIDF
IIP COIUNIHIAN
I\RI»'S DAUOmtR
!RIDA\ S CHllD
IHI Ri LUC IAN I WIDOW
iHl lOUNDLlNCr
ARXBIHA
IHl liRAND SOPHY
IHI QUIll C ENIi LMAN

GEORGETTE HEYER

Death in
the Stocks

WILLIAM HEINEMANN LTD
MixBOURNB :: LONDON toronjd

PRiMJD IN f Rl'A'I BRITAIN
AT THE WINDMIIL TRESS
KI '^OSWOOn, Sl^RREY

CHAPTi-R I

It was past midnight, and the people who lived in the
cottages that clustered round the triangular green had long
since gone to bed and to sleep. No lamp shone in any
window, but a full moon sailed in a sky the colour of
sapphires, and lit the village witli a pale light, as cold as the
sheen on steel. Trees and houses cast grotesque shadtws,
black as sr>ot; every (»bject in the moonlight stood out sharply
ddined, but without colour, so that even a prosaic h'ne of
petrol pumps looked a little ghostly.

1‘herc was a car drawn up at one end of the green, its head-
lights throwing two golden beams ahead, and its engine
throbbing softly. One of its doors stood open. Something
moved in the shadow of the great cLii tree beside tlic car; a
men stepped into the moonlight, glanced this way and that, as
though fearful of seeing someone, and after a moment's
hesitation got quickly into the car and began to turti it,
jarring his gears a little. He looked once towards the dm
tree, at some object dimly disctmiblc in the shadow, and
then, liaving swung the car right round, drove away up the
I.ondon road. The noise of his engine died slowly in tlic
distance; somewhere at hand a watch-dog harked once, and
then w'as silent.

Tlic shadow of the elm tree was shortening as the moon
travelled across the sky: the eerie light scctned to steal under
the branches, and presently shone on two feet in patent
leather shoes, stuck through the holes of a pair of stocks. The
feet remained motionless, and as the tnoonlight crept nearer
the glimmer of a wliite shirt-front showed.

An hour later a cyclist rounded the bend in the road by the

2

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

King’s Head. Police-Constable Dickenson was returning
home from a night patrol. The moonlight now fully
illumined the stocks. A gentleman in evening-dress was
sitting in tliem, apparently asleep, for his body liad sagged
forward, his head lolling on his chest. Police-Constable
Dickenson was whistling softly as he rode, but the whistle
stopped suddenly, and the front wheel of the bicycle swerved.
The stocks were a feature of Ashleigh Green, but the Con-
stable could not remember having seen anyone imprisoned in
them before. It gave him quite a turn. Tight as an owl, he
thought. I.ooks like somebody’s been having a game with
you, my lad.

He got off his bicycle, and pushed it on to the grass and
carefully propped it against the elm tree. The figure on the
bench did not move. “Now then, sir, wake up!” said the
Constable, kind but reproving. “Can’t spend the night here,
you know!” He laid his hand on one sagging shoulder, and
gave it a slight shake. “Come along, sir, you’ll be better off at
home, you will.” There was no response, and he shook the
shoulder rather harder, and put one arm round the man to
hoist him. There was still no response, but an arm which had
lain across its owner’s knees was dislodged and hung
dangling, the hand brushing limply against the (Constable’s
trousers. The Constable bent, peering into the downcast face,
and sought in his pocket for his torch. The light flashed on,
and the Constable stepped back rather quickly. The figure on
the bench, disturbed by his shaking, toppled over sideways,
its feet still held in the stocks. “Gawd!” whispered Police-
Constable Dickenson, feeh'ng his mouth to be very dry all at
once, “Oh, Gawd!” He did not want to touch the figure
again, or even to go nearer, because there was something
sticky on his hands, and he had never seen a dead man before.

He stooped, and rubbed his hand on the grass, telling
himself he was a proper softy. But he hadn’t been expecting

DEATH IN THE. STOCKS

3

it, and his stomach had kind of turned over. Made a chap feel
sick for a minute; it was like as if one’s innards took a jump
into one’s chest. Breathing 'a little jerkily he went up to the
figure again, and ran his torch over it, and rather gingerly
touched one of the slack hands. It wasn’t exactly cold, not
clammy, like you read about in books, but just cool. He
didn’t know but that he wouldn’t rather it had been icy.
That faint warmth was nasty, somehow.

He pulled liimself up. It wasn’t lus job to get fanciful, but
to make up his mind what was the right thing for him to do
first. The man was dead, sure enougli; it was no use standing
over the body: he’d belter get on to the Police Station at
Hanborough as soon as possible. He pushed his bicycle back
on to the road, mounted it again, and rode swiftly along to
the other end of the green, to the cottage with the prim muslin
curtains and the tidy flower-beds which had County Police
painted on a narrow board over the front door.

He let liimself in anil made his way to the telephone, taking
care to tread softly so that his wife, who was asleep upstairs,
should not wake and call to liim to go up. He’d have to tell
her what liad happened if she did, and she was expecting her
first, and none too well.

He lifted the receiver, wondering whether he’d done the
right thing after all, leaving a corpse stuck down in the middle
of the village. It didn’t seem decent, somehow.

The Station- Sergeant’s voice spoke. He was surprised to
hear his own voice so steady, because really he felt a bit
shaken, and no wonder. He told his story as matter-of-factly
as he could, and the Sergeant, not nearly so phlegmatic, said
first: and then: "Tn the stocks?” and lastly: ‘Took

here, are you sure he’s dead?”

Police-Constable Dickenson was quite sure, and when the
Sergeant heard about the blood, and the wound in the back,
he stopped making incredulous exclamations, and said

4

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

briefly: “AU right. You cut along and sec no one touches the
body. The Inspector •will be down with the ambulance in a
couple of shakes.”

“Hold on a minute, Sergeant,” said the Constable, anxious
to give all the information he could. “It isn’t a stranger. I
■was able to identify him — ^it’s Mr, Vercker.”

“Mr. Who?” demanded the Sergeant.

“Verekcr. The gentleman from l.ondon as bought
Riverside C ottage. You know. Sergeant: comes down week-
ends.”

“Oh!” said the Sergeant, rather vaguely. “Not a local man.”

“Not properly speaking,” agreed the (.onstablc. “But
what beats me is how he came to be sitting in them stocks at
this hour of n<ght. He’s in evening-dress, what’s more.”

“VC’ell, you get back and keep your eye on things rill the
Inspector comes along,” said the Sergeant, and hung up the
receiver.

(,onstable I^ickenson heard the click of it, and was rather
sorry, because now that he had had time to recover from his
llrst amaj'ement he roiild see several queer things about the
murder, and would li.ive liked to liave talked them over w'ith
the .Sergeant. Put llierc was ntithmg for it but to do as he was
told, so he put his rtcehtr back on the hoiik, and tiptoed out
of the house again to w'licre he liad left his bicycle propped
against the iron railing.

VC hen he got back to the stocks the dead man was lying in
the same position. 1 here “was no sign that any one had been
there since the Constable left, and after looking over the
ground for a bit -wiih the aid of lus torch, in the hope of dis-
covering .some clue, su iootprint, the ('onstable leaned his
back against the tree, and tried, while waiting for the In-
spector to arrive, to puzzle out the problem for liimself.

It was not very long before he heard the sound of a car in
the distance, and in a few moments it drew up beside the

death in the stocks

5

green, and Inspector Jetrold hopped out nimbi}, and turned
to give a hand to a s out man m whom the Constable
recogmscd Dr. Hawke, the Police Surgeon,

“\\cll''” said the Inspector briskl}. “Where is this bod\,
Dickenson? OW — ah'” He stepped up to the bench, and ran
his torcli over the still figure there. “H’m' Not much for ) ou
here, Doctot, from the looks of it. Turn those headlights this
wa} , Hill 1 hat’s better. Like this when you found him, w as
he?”

“ \o, sii, not properl\. He was sitting up -well, when 1
say sittmg, he was kind ot slouching forward, if }ou know
whatlmeaii J thought he was asleep Him being in c\cmng-
dtess, and lus feet in the stocks hl..L that, 1 never thought but
what he’d had a glass too mans — so I went up to him and put
m} hand on his shoulder to gui him a bit of a shake, and
w ake him up Twice I shook him, and then it struck me thtn
was something queer about him, and 1 tcit the palm of m\
hand kind of wet and sticky, and I switclud m\ tt/ich on to
him and — and then ot course i saw he was dead. Me shaking
him like that made him tall sulcwats, hkc vou sic ”

The Inspector nodded, lus eves on the Doctor, who
was kneeling behmd the bod\ “isergcint Hamlin sa}s
you idcnlh'ed him. Who is lu? Don’t seem to know his
tacs ”

‘ V ell, I daresay \ou might not, sit It’s 1 *r. Vereker, ot
Riverside ( ottage ”

“Oh'” said the Inspector with a httlc snilT “One of these
week-end people. Anything out of the way. Doctor''”

“I shall have to do a P.M , of course,” giumbRd the
Doctor, getting up rather pondttouslv ftora his knets
“But It looks quite a straight case hnifi wound a little
below the left shoulder blade Dc.iin probably occuricd
instantaneously.”

The Inspector watched bun at work on the body for a

6

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

moment or two, and presently asked: “Formed any opimon
of the time it was done, sirr^”

“Say two to four houis/’ replied the Doctor, and straight-
ened his back. “That’s all for the present, thanks/’

The Inspector turned to Constable Dickenson “Know
how the body was sitting when found it^”

“\es, sir.”

“All right. Put It back as near as j ou can Read) with that
flashlight, lliompson^”

( onstable Dickenson did not care mucli for the task
allotted him, but lie went up at once to the bod) and r*uscd
It to the original position, and careful!) laid one arm across
the stiffening kgs. Ihe Inspector watched him in silence,
and, when he stepped back at last, made a sign to the
photographer.

By tlic time the phoiograpliei had hmshed his work the
police ambulance had armed, and a light was tfirned on m
one* ol the windous of an adjactnl cottage, Ihe inspector
cast a shrewd glance up at tlie window and said curtly:
“Right. y<.'u can tike liim out now. ( arcful how \ou touch
that bar^ We may get a hng<^i print.”

dhe bar of the stocks was laiscd, llie bod) lifted out, and
carried to tlie ambulance, just as the lighted window was
thrown up and a tousled head poked our. \ gluiulishly
expectant voice called out- “\v hat’s the nuttet^ Has there
been an accident^ An\bod) burt.^”

“fust a bit of an accident, Mrs. Duke,” replied ( onstable
Dickenson. ‘ Nothing for \ou to worry about,”

7 he head was withdrawn, but the voice could be heard
adjuring one Horace to get up quick, because the police were
outside with the ambulance and all.

“What 1 know of this \illagc, wc’ll have a whole pack of
busybodies here inside of ten minutes,” said the Inspector,
with a grim httlc smile, “All right, you men- mortuary. Now

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 7

then, Dickenson, let’s bear what you can tell us. When did
you discover the body?”

“By my reckoning, sir, it would be about ten minutes to
two. It was just on two when I rung up the Station, me
having been out on patrol.”

“You didn’t see anvone here? No car? Didn’t hear
anything?”

“No, sir, nothing.”

“Was the man- what’s iiis name — Vereker, sta 5 ing at
Riverside ('ottage?”

“Not to my knowledge he wasn’t, sir, but then he didn’t,
not during the wcet as a general rule. It being Saturday I
figured It out he must have been on his way down to the
cottage. Mrs. Beaton would know whether he was there.
t>hc’d have had her orders to go m and make things'ready for
him.”

“Does she live out"''”

“'i'es, sir. Pennyfart hing Row, a couple of minutes from
the cottage. She keeps the place cLan, and gets in mJk and
eggs and such, when he's coming down. He often gets down
late on Saturdays, so she was telling me. I have known him to
bling his valet down to do for him, but just as often he comts
alone.” He paused, and corrected himself. “When 1 sav
alone, J mean he often don’t bring a servant with lum.”

“W'hat (h you mean?” inquired the Doctor.

“Well, sir, he sometimes bruigs friends down with him.”
He gave a little cough. “Most often females, so I’ve heard.”

“Wife? Sister?” interrupted the Inspector.

“Oh no, sir! Nothing like that,” replied the Constable,
rather shocked.

“Oh, that kind of female!” said the Inspector. “We’d
better go round first thing in the morning to Riverside
(iottage, and see if there’s any tiling to be got there. There’s
nothing here. Ground’s too dry for footprints. We’ll get

8

DEAIH IN THE STOCKS

along, Doctor, if you’re ready. You’ll hand in your report
to-morrow, Dickenson, see? You can go off to bed now.’'
He moved away towards the car with the Doctor. Constable
Dickenson heard him say in his dry way: “Looks to me like a
case for the Yard. London man. Nothing to do with us.
Nice easy case too— if they can lay their hands on the
woman.”

“Quite,” agreed the Doctor, smothering a yawn. “If he
had a woman with luni.”

aiAPTbR U

Inshcior JiRROLD made a very early call on the (]hief
Constable next mommg, and found him eatmg his breakfast.
He apologised for disturbing lum, but the C olonel merely
■waved him to a cliair, and said “Not at all. ''JC hat’s your
trouble^ Anything serious-'”

“Pretty serious, sir. Man found stabbed to death at
Aslileigh Green at 1.50 this morning.”

“GoodGodi You don’t say so' Who is it-'”

“Gentleman of the name of Vrnold Vereker, sir, of
Riverside Cottage ” ‘

“CjoU bless ray soul'” ejaculated the ( olonel, putting d*)wn
his coffee trap. “Wliodidit? Am idea^”

“No, sir, none No clues at all so far. I he bod' was found
bt ( onstablc Dickenson— in the stocks ”

‘In the n haP”

“Does sound odd, doesn’t it, sir^ But that’s how it was ”
“Do 50U mean he was put m the stocks and then stabbed,
or whaP”

“It’s hard to sa's , sir. Not much bleeding, ou see nothing
on the ground. Might have been stabbed first, though why
anyone should take the trouble to put the body m the stocks
I can’t make out. He ■was m cvenmg-dress, no hat or over-
coat, and the only tiling we’ve got so far that looks hke
helping us at all is liis hands, wluch were ebrty. Smear of
motor-oil on one, inference being he’d had to change a tyre,
or do some repair on a car. But his car’s not there, and not at
the garage either. Of course, he may have walked into the
village from Riverside Cottage — it’s under a mile awav — but
It seems a fuimy thmg to do at that hour of night The Doctor

lO DEATHINTHESTOCKS

doesn’t put the hour of the murder earlier than twelve
o’clock, or thereabouts. No, it looks like he was motoring
down with someone or other for the week-end. What I
thought, sir, was that 1 should go off to Riverside Cottage
first thing after seeing you to find out if he was staying there,
or expected down last night. SecAias to have been a gentleman
witlt irregular sort of liabits.”

‘'\cs, I believe so,” said the (Colonel. '“Didn’t know him
myself, but one hears things. A ('ity man — mining interests,
so 1 was informed. 1 don’t fancy it's much of a case for us.
Inspector. Wliat do you feel about it?”

" W cll, sir, pretty much what you do. (}f course, we don’t
know that it wasn’t a local affair, but on the face of it it doesn’t
look like it. I’ve got a man out at vXshleigli Green making
inquiries, but I don’t expect to get much. You know* what it
is out in the country, sir. Folks go to bed early, and if there
w^asn’t any noise made, barring the car — assuming^ there was a
car — no one w*ould be likely to wake up — or take any notice
if they were awake. Ihc Doctor’s of the opinion death must
have been pretty well instantaneous. 7'herc’s no sign of any
struggle. Dickenson tells me this Mr. Vercker w^as in the
habit of bringing friends dowm from towm over the w^cck-end.
W'bat wx wane is his car. That might tell us something. How
I look at it, sir, is we’ll have to get on to the Yard for in-
formation, whatever happens.”

‘“Quite right. Not our case at all. Still, you should
certainly go to tliis cottage you speak of and see what j^ou can
pick up. Does he keep any servants there?”

"No, sir. There’s a woman by the name of Beaton who
keeps the place tidy, by what I understand, but she lives out.
I’ll see her, of course, but I don’t expect to find anyone at the
Cottage. ’Tisn’t likely. But I might get a line on it.”

Ihte Inspector was wrong. Half an hour later, when he and
C-onstable Dickenson got out of the police car at Riverside

niAIH IN THL «;t:ocks

II

Cottage, there were unmistakable signs that the cottage was
occupied

Jt was a small house of stucu cd brick and jade green
shutters, standing in wooded irtounds that ran down to the
n-vci I he position was what hr usi atrents w ould describe as
picturesque iiid secluded, uj rjihcr hou'^e being visible m
summer tu m am of itb v indov s

As the eat drev up a dog start d batbng inside the house,
and tl c ( oust Idc said at once lhai\ funn\ N't Vereker
never nad a do^^ down he tc to n ^ kno\\ Icdcn ’

i he Imptctoi set 1 is t nger on tlic elceltio lit 11, rem^rkmg
as he did so i^dit be the eharwoiniiiN \,ho looks after
tlie garden, and the eleciric light plant'' ’

‘Aoung Beaton sir IJe comes in a couple of da\s a week
But he w couldn’t hrinp hi'^ do'»- \ ith him noi into the house
[here s sonifonc Icre Al rigl t 1 cm hear him moving
about ”

I he inspector pics ea the bell again ^ cl wis about to
press It a tl ltd time when ti v eioor v\a‘‘ opened 1o them b\ a
gitl w'th a head ot butnishcd copper cuils and vetv large and
biilliant dark e^cs bh< was wcartne' i man’s dressing gown
ot e\penst\c looking biocade, which wis sev^ial si 7 cs too
large tot Ixcr, and was ehicth cKtupKd m let ping back a
power! ul bull ttrrier wl o did not seen view the visitors
vitli much favour

“Shut up, 3011 fooll ’ commanded the giil "'ju V

Whcit on earth do ^ou w int J lus L st re maik vtsls addressed
in a tone of consideiablc surprise to the Inspector

“Inspectoi JerioJd, miss, from Hanhorough,” sa^d the
Inspcetoi, introduciJU» lum<eli “It eomenunt, I should like
to have a word with \ou ”

She looked at him irownmt>U 1 don’t know what \ou
want to have a word with me about, but "vou can come in it
^ou like Get back. Bill’”

12

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

llxe two men followed her into a square hall, decorated in a
modernist style, with curtains and a carpet of cubist design, a
number of tubular steel chairs, and a squat table of limed
oak. The girl saw Constable Dickenson blink at it and said
with a flickering smile: “You needn’t think I did it.” The
Constable looked at her rather quickly, involuntarily startled,
“■^ou’d better come into the lutchen. I haven’t finished
breakfast. The scenery’s better, too.” She strolled ahead of
them through a door at the end of the hall into a pleasant
kitchen with a tiled floor, a homely-looking dresser, and a
breakfast of eggs and cf)flee and toast spread at one end of the
large table. An electric cooker stood at one end of die room,
and a small electric brazier had been attached by a long flex to
the light fixture, and was switched on for the purpose of
drying a linen skirt which u.as hung ovtr a chair-hack in front
of it. 1 he Inspector, pausing on the threshold, cast a swift,
trained glance round the room. Ills gaze lested (oc a moment
on the damp skirt, and travelled to the girl. She walked
round the tabic, picking up a shce of half-eaten toast and
butter from her plav in a c.isual way as she passed, and pulled
a chair forward. “Sit dov n, won’t you? I warn you, 1 shan't
make any statement till Ih e seen my solicitor.” She looked up
as she spoke, and raised her brows. “Joke,” she explained.

The Inspector smiled pohtcly. “Ves, miss, naturally.
Might I ask if you arc staving here?”

“God, no!”

The Inspector glanced at the brocade dressing-gown, and
looked inquiring.

“Quite tight, I spent the mght here,” said the girl coolly.
“Anything else you'd like to know?”

“Did you come down with Mr. Vereker, miss?”

“No, I didn’t. I haven’t seen Mr. Vereker.”

“Indeed, miss? Was he not expecting you?”

A rather hard glint crept into the girl’s fine eyes. “Well,

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

15

everything was very nicely ptepared, but I don’t fancy it was

on my account. But what the hell it lias to do with ”

She broke oft, and laughed suddenly. **()h, I see! Sorry to
disappoint you, but I’m not a burglar — ^though 1 did get in
through a window. The dressing-gown is merely borrowed
till my skirt’s dry.”

The Inspector directed his ga/e towards the skiit. “I quite
understand, miss. iSiust have been a bad stain, if I may say

, .TV

so.

^‘BIoocl,” said the girl, bctv;^ctn sips of colice.

C onstablc Dickenson gave a slight gasp. said

the Inspector cvenh .

The girl set down hci cup, and met his look \<ith a
belligerent gleam in her t\cs “just what do you want with
she demanded

“rd like to know h »w nou came to get blood on your
skirt, miss,” said tl e Jnspcctot

"'\t.s^ \\ cl], I should likk to know what rieht }ou have to
ask me that — or an\ thing ckc, for that nuiur. Get on with
id \X hat IS It jou’re after^"

The Inspector drew out his note book. “Iherc*** no need
to take offence, miss. W c’\c had a little upset in these parts
last night, and I ha^c to bnd out one ot tw^o details. May L
have )our name and adekess, pi asc^“

“Vvh>?” asked the girl.

A sliadc of sc\crii\ cicpt into the Inspector^ voice.
‘AouTl pardon me, miss, but }ou’rc helming in a sill\ wat.
There's been an accident connected with this housf , and it’s
my duty to get what information 1 can about it ”

‘‘Well, you aren't likch to get much out of me,” obsersed
the girl. “Don't know' am thing. My name's \ntonia
Vereker. Address, ^ Cirajlmg Street, Chelsea. VCliat the
devil’s the matter now^'^”

The Inspector had looked up quickly from his note-

14 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

book. “A relation of Mr. Arnold Veteker?” he said.

“Half-sister.”

The Inspector lowered lus gaze to the book again, and
carefully wrote down the name and address. “And you say
you have not seen Mr. Veceker since you came here?”

“Haven’t seen him for months,”

“How long have you been here, miss?”

“Since last night. Sevenish.”

“Did you come especially to sec your brother?”

“Half-brother. Of course T did. But 1 haven’t seen him.
He never turned up.”

“Y ou were expecting him, then"''”

“Look here!” raid Antoiua strongl}. “Do you think I
should have motoit <1 thirlv-fi> ( miks to this place if 1 hadn’t
expected to see hira^”

“No, rmss. But 30U said a mmutc or tvo back that Mr.
Vcrcker xvas not expecting you. J wa> merely wondering
how It W'as that vith lum not expecting you, and you not
having seen him for months, ou -were sure enough of lindmg
him here to conic aU that ua\

“I wasn’t sure. But 1 know his habits. C i/ining heie over
the week-end is one of them.”

“1 take It voo wanted to see him urgenth , iniss^”

“I wanted to sec him, and I still want to see lutu,” said
Antonia.

“I’m afraid, niisi, that won’t be possible,’" said the In-
spector, getting up from his cliair.

She stared at him in a smouldering way. “Oh, won’t it?”
she said.

“No, miss. I’m sorry to have to tell you that Mr. Vereker
has met with an act 'dent.’’

Her brows drew together. “Are you breaking it
to me gently? You needn’t bother. Is he dead, or
what?”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS I5

The Inspector’s manner became a shade sterner. ‘"Yes,
miss. He is dead,” he answered.

“Good lord!” said the girl. The fierce look left her face;
she glanced from one to the other of the two men. To the
Constable’s shocked amazement, a twinkle appeared in her
eye. ‘T tliought you were trying to run my dog in,” she
remarked. “Sorry 1 was a trifle brusque. He had a bit of a
fight last night, and a dam’ fool of a woman who owned
the other dog swore all sorts of vengeance on him. Is
my half-brother really dead? What happened to him? Car
smash?”

The Inspector had no longer any compunction in dis-
closing the truth. “Mr. Vereker was murdered,” he said
bluntly. He noticed with satisfaction that he did seem at last
to have startled her a little. She lost some of her colour, and
looked as though she did not know what to say. He added
after a short pause: “His body vras discovered in the stocks
at Ashleigh Crrccn at one- fifty this morning.”

“His body was discovered in the stocks}^' repeated the girl.
“Do you mean somebody put him in the stocks and he died of
fright, or exposure, or what?”

“Your half-brother, miss, died as the result of a knife-
thrust through the back,” said the Inspector.

“Oh!” said Antonia. “Rather beastly.”
es,” said the Inspector.

She stretched out lier hand mechanically towards an open
box of dgarettes, and began to tap one of them on her thumb-
nail. “Very nasty,” she observed, “Who did it?”

“The police have no information on that point at present,
miss.”

She struck a match, and lit the cigarette. “Well, I didn’t, if
that’s what you want to know. Have you come here to arrest
me, or something?”

“Certainly not, miss. All I wish to do is to make a few

i6

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

inqulties. Anything you can tell me that would throw some
light on

She shook her head. “Sorry, but I can’t. Vl e haven’t been
on speaking terms for months.’’

“hxcuse me, nuss, but, if that is so, how do you come to be
in Mr. Vereker’s house now?’’

“Oh, that’s easy,’’ she rephed. “He wrote me a letter
which made me see red, so I came down to have it out with
him.’’

“May I ask if you have tliat letter, miss.-'”

‘A es, but 1 don’t propose to sho^^ it to you, if that’s what
you’re after. Purely personal.”

“1 take It the matter was very pressing? Mr, Veteker
would have been in l.ondon again on Monday?”

“Well, 1 didn’t feci hke waiting till Monday,” retorted
jkntoma. “He wasn’t in I aton Place when I rang up, so i
took a chance on his being here He wasn’t, but the beds
were made up, and there was some nulk and butter and eggs
and things in the larder, which made it look fairly certain tliat
he w'as expected, so I cvaitcd for him. When he didn’t turn
up at rmdnight I went to bed, because it seemed to be a bit
late to go home again then.”

“I sec. Vnd von haven’t been out ot the house since —I
think you said it was about sex en o dock — last night.''”

ca, ot course I’ve been i/Ut ot the house smee then,” she
said impatifntly. “1 took the dog tor a run )ust before 1
turned in. That’s when he had thi tight. A mangy-lookmg
retriever set on him about half a mile from here. Blood and
tur all over the place. However, there was no real damage
done.”

The C onstajsle was survey mg the bull-terricr, lying watch-
fully by' the door, “'i our dog wasn’t hurt, miss?” he ventured.

She looked contemptuous. “Hardly at all. He’s a bull-
terricr.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

17

“I was only thinking, miss,” said the Constable, with a
deprecating glance towards ihe Inspector, “that it was odd
your dog wasn’t bitten too.”

ou don’t seem to know nmth about bull terriers,” said
Antonia,

“1 hat’ll do, Dickenson,” intervened the Inspector. He
addressed Antoma again, “t shall have to ask jou, nuss, if
you uouM eonic back to the Police .Station with me. ou’ll
understand that 'vou being .» 1 dative, and in S.r. Vtreker’s
house at the time, the Chict Constable would like to have
your statement, and am particulars you can give of the
deceased s ”

“But I tell you I don't know anything about it,” said
Antonia snappishly. “Moreover, if I’m wanted to make
statements, and sign things. I’ll have a lawyer doum to sec 1
don’t go and inrrimmate m\ seif.”

1 he Jnspet tor said in a measured way “\o one wants y ou
to do that, miss. But y^ou must surely realize that the pohee
arc bound to w'ant all the infmnution they can get. You can’t
object to tellmg the ( hief ( onstablc quite simply anything
you know about your brother ”

“Don’t keep on calling him my brother Half brother ”

“1 beg paidon. I’m sure. Arytlung you know about your
half-brother, and what y ou y ourself were doing at the time of
the murder.”

“\X ell, 4.’\c already told you that ”

“\es, miss, and what i want you to do is to tell it again,
just in what words you please, at the Station, where it can he
taken down m shorthand, and given you to read over, and
correct, if you like, and sign. Tlicre isn’t any harm in that, is
there?”

1 he girl stubbed the end of her cigarette mto her saucer.
“It seems to me there might be a lot of harm in it,” she said
with paralysing frankness. “If you’re gomg to investigate my

l8 DEAIHINTHI: SIOCKS

half-brother’s murder 3 ou’re bound to find out quite a lot of
happy httlc details about our fanuly, so I might just as well
tell you at the outset that 1 loathed the sight of Arnold. I
didn’t happen to murder him, but 1 haven’t got an ahbi, and,
as iar as i can set, things lathcr point mj u a\ So it it’s all the
same to )ou — and equolh it it isi ’t- I shan’t say anythmg at
all till i see m) soliutor.”

‘ Very wdl, misj, it’s just as you like. And if jou’ll
accomp.m\ me to flaiiboiough you can ring up \ our soliator
fiom the Station ”

“Do )ou mean I’ve got to hang about in a Police Station
all day-'” demanded \ntonn “I’m damned 1 1 J will' I’ve got
a luncheon engagcm».nt in town it one o’clock.”

“Yvc.ll, nass,” said the Jtisjiecfor plicably, “i\c no wish to
foiee you into making a staten^ent it tou don’t vant to, but
it you’d onl\ sec sense and act reasonably i daresay the C luef
( onstable wouldn’t sec any need to detain sou ”*

‘ Have you got a w .>rrant lor ms airesl-'” Vnloma shot at
him

“No, n iss, 1 liavo lOt ”

“Ihen you can’t stop me going bark to 'lown ”

'I he Inspeetoi showed signs ot heginnmg to lose his
temper “it you go on like tins rmeh longer, nuss, you’ll
soon sec whethci ( ca.n take y'ou up to the Pobee Station or
not'”

Antonia lifted an eyebiow, and glanced towards the dog.
“Would y on like to bet on it^” she inquired,

“C on'C alonT, mi»s, don’t be sillyl” said the Inspector.

“t)h, well'” si'd Antonia. “Alter all, I do want to know
who did kill \tnold I’ve often sa<d I’d hke to, but I ne\er
did, somehow Do you mind if J put on my skirt, or would
y ou hke me just as I am'*”

ITie Inspector said he w'otdd prefer her to put on her skirt.
“Ml right. But you’ll liave to cleat out while I do. And

DtATHIVinHsrOCKS X9

while you’ic waiting one of you might look, out Mr. Giles
Carrington’s number in the tdephone book, and get on to
him for me, and tell him he’s got to conic down here at ona ,
because I’m bemg cliatged with murder ”

*‘aS obod) ’s charging you with anything of the sort, miss, f
keep on telling you' ”

“Well, you will be soon,” said Antonia, with the utmo'^t
cheerfulness.

CHAI^^rER III

AIrs. BiAroN, when interviewed^ proved a disappointing
witness. Constable Dickenson had warned the Inspector that
she was not one to talk, but the Inspector soon formed the
opinion that her reticence had its root in a profound ignorance
oi her employer’s affairs. ^X^hen Arnold Vercker was at the
cottage she was never required to do more than cook break-
fast, and tidy the house before going home again at twelve
o’clock. Mr. Vereker nearly always brought a hamper down
vith him from I ortnum Alason’s, and sometimes, when he
did not come alone, she never even set eyes on his guests.
She had received a wire from Mr. Vereker on Friday, v, arning
her that he was coming down on Saturday, and iffight bring
a visitor, but who the visitor was, whether man or woman, or
at what hour they would arrive, she had not the least idea.

Ihe ( hief ( onstable, adopting a fathctly attitude, failed tc;
triake any impression on Antonia Vereker, and there vas
nothing for it, with regard to her evidence, but to await the
arrival of Afr. CjiIcs Carrington. ITnfortunaicly Mr. Chiles
Carrington bad gone to play^ golf by the time a call had been
put through to his residence, and althougli the servant who
answered the telephone promised to ring up the golf club at
once no dependence could be placed on the message’s reach
ing him before lunch time.

Consigning Aliss Vereker to the care of the Station-
Sergeant, the Inspector and the Chief Constable went into

consultation, and were very soon agreed on the advisabihty
of calling in New Scotland Yard at stocks bad

revealed no finger-prints, and the lAtle

more than his first examination.

! t

3 -6^ x-'tjiiF

r > A

DEATH IN THE STOCKS ZT

The Station-Sergeant, who described liimself as a rare one
for dogs, got on much better with Antonia than the Inspector
had done. He spent half an hour arguing wJth her on the
merits of the Airedale over the Bull- terrier, and would have
been pleased to have continued the argument indefinitely had
his work not called him away. She was left m a severe
apartment with a couple of Sunday papers and her own
thoughts, her only visitor being a young and rather shy
constable, who brought her a cup of tea at eleven o’clock.

It was past one o’clock when a touting car drew up outside
the Police Station, and a tall, loose-limbed man in the mid-
thirties walked in, and announced in a pleasant, lazy voice tha*"
his name was Carrington.

The Inspector happened to be in the (charge -room at the
moment, and he greeted the newcomer with relief not un-
mixed with dubiety. Mr. Carrington did not look mudi like a
solicitor to lum. However, he conducted him to the Chief
Constable’s office, and duly presented him to Colonel
Agnew.

'Jlierc was another man with the Colonel, a middle-aged
man with hair slightly grizzled at the temples, and a square,
good-humoured face m which a pair of rather deep-set e\es
showed a lurking twinkle behind their gra\itv. 'fhe ( oloncl,
having shaken hands with Cnles ( ariington, turned to
introduce this man.

“This is Superintendent Hatinasydc, from New Scotland
Yard, He has come down to investigate this case, Mr.
('arrington. 1 have been putting him in possession of the
facts as w^e know them, but wc are a little — cr — ^hampered by
your client’s refusal to make am sort of statement until she
lias consulted you.”

Giles shook hands with the Supeimtendcnt. “\ou must
forgive me; T haven’t the least idea what your case is,” he said
frankly. “Tlic message that reached me — on the third tee —

DEATHINTHE STOCKS

was that my cousin. Miss Vereker, wanted me to come down
at once to Hanborough Police Station. Has she been getting
herself into trouble?”

“Your cousmi” said the Colonel. “1 understood ”

“Oh, 1 am her solicitor as well,” smiled Ciiles (Barrington.
“Now what is it all about?”

“I’m afraid it’s rather a serious business,” rephed the
Colonel. “Miss Vcrckcr’s determined refusal to assist the

police by giving any evidence But I trust that you will

be able to convince her that her present attitude is merely
prejudicial to her own mterest*;. Miss Vercker’s half-brother,
Mr. (Barrington, was discovered in the village stocks at
Ashleigh (Treen in the carh hours of tlus morning, dead.”

“Good heavensl” said (iilcs ( anington, mildly shocked.
“When you say dead, vhal precisely do ^ou mc.in.'-”

“Murdered,” said the ( olontl bluntlj. “ \. laufc-thiust in
the back.”

There vas a moment's silence. “Pour chap'” s.ud (jiles, in
ptccisch the same wa) as he mighr have said “Dear me'” or
“What apit}'” “Ard do I understand tliat )ouhavc arrested
Miss Vertktr, or what?”

“No, no, no'” said the ( olcmcl, a look of annovance
conung into his face. “That is racteh the ridiiulous notion
Miss Vcrcket seems to have got into her head' Miss Vereker,
on her own admission, spv.n( llu night at her half brother’s
bouse, Riverside ( ottage, and all that she was wanted to do
was to tell us just why she v as there, and what she was doing
at the time of the murder. Since sht is a c1<ac relative of the
murdered man, it did not seem unreasonable to evpcct her to
give us what information she c^in about Mr. Vercker’s habits
and friends, but bejond infornung Inspector jetrold that she
loathed her half-brother, hadn’t set eyes on him for months,
and had come down to Riverside (.ottage with the intention of
‘having something out with him,’ she refuses to say a word.”

DEATHINfHESTOCKS 25,

A half-laughing, half-rueful look crept into (liles (.Barring-
ton’s eyes. “I think I’d better sec her at once,” he said. ‘Tm
afraid you’ve been having rather a <iifficult time with her, sir.”

“1 liavc,” said the Colonel. “ '^nd J think you should know,
Mr. (Barrington, that her atntude has been txtremcly —
equivocal, let us say.”

“I’m sure it has,” said (^iles s} inpatl'tticully. “She can be
very' tiresome.”

The Suptiintendcnt, who had been watching hnii, said
suddenly: “1 wonder, Mr. (.arrington, whethet b\ anychance
you arc also Mr. Arnold Vereker's sobcitor^”

“I am,” replied fill s. “I am also one of his executors.”

“^'ell, then, ( olonel,” said Hannasyde, with a smile, “ue
must be grateful to Miss Vereker, mustn’t we^ You are the
vtrymfuil want, 'vir. ( arnngtou.”

‘A'ls, I’xe rcaliiied that for <ome time,” agreed (Ales.
“Hut I think I had better see nn c<iusio first.”

“Indoubtedh. And \lr. ( aiiiagton!” < iks lifted an
eyebrow. The twinkle in the hupeiinttndcnt’s eye became
more pronounced. “Do tiy to cominre '^Iiss Vcicker that
really tlu police uon’t arrest her merely because she disliked
her half biolhcr.”

“I’ll tr\,” s.'id (tjIcs ;>nveh, “but I’m .ifraid she hisn’t
much of an opiiiion ot the pvdiev. \ou see, she bieeds bull-
terricrs, and the\ fight ratlier.”

The Supermundent watched him go out in the wake of
Inspector Jerrold, and Uirned to look at the ( oloue'l. “1 like
that chap,” he said in his decided w aa . “He’s going to help
me.”

“\X^ell, [ hope* he mat,” saul the ( obrnfl “\\h.tt struck
me most forcibly was that he showed almost as little proper
fiehng at heering of his cousii 's death as ihc girl
did.”'

“Ves, it struck me too,” said Hannasyde. “It looks as

24

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

though Arnold Vereker was the sort of man who had a good
many enemies.”

Meanwhile Giles Carrington had been escorted to the room
where Antonia awaited him. The Inspector left him at the
door, and he went in, closing the door firmly behind him.
“Hullo, Tony!” he said in a mattk r-of-fact voice.

Antonia, who was standing by the window, drumming her
fingers on the glass, turned round quickly. She was looking a
little pale, and mote than a little fierce, but the glowering look
faded, and some colour stole into her cheeks when she saw
her cousin. “Hullo, (3iles!” she returned, with just a sug-
gestion of embarrassment in her manner. “Fm glad you’ve
come. Arnold’s been murdered.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard,” he answered, pulling a chair up to the
table. “Sit d(iwa and tell me just what asinine tricks you’ve
been up to,”

“You needn't assume I’ve been asuiine jus* because I
happen to be in a mess'” snapped Antonia.

“I don’t. I assume it became I know you awfully well, my
child, '\\hat arc yf»u doing here, anyway? I thought you
weren’t on speaking terms with Arnold.”

“I wasn’t. But something happened, and I wanted to see
him at once, so 1 came down ”

He interrupted her. “What happened?”

“Well, that’s priv'ate. Anyway

“Cut out the anyway,” returned licr cousin. “You’ve
called me in to act for you, Tony, and y'ou must take me into
your confidence.”

She set her elbov s on the table and leaned her chin on her
clasped hands, frowning. “I can’t, altogether. However, I
don’t mind telling you that my reason for wanting to see
Arnold was because he’s started to interfere with my life
again, and that made me see red.”

“What had he done?”

DEATHIMTHBSTOCKS Z$

“Written me a stinking letter about ” She stopped.

“About my engagement,” she said after a moment.

“I didn’t know you were engaged,” remarked Giles.
“ Vfr ho is It tlus time?”

“Don’t say who is it this tunc, as tliough I’d been engaged
dozens of times! I’ve only been engaged once before.”

“Sorry. Who is it?”

“Rudolph Mcsurier,” said ..\ntonia

“Do you mean that dark felloiv in Arnold’s t ompanv^”
asked Ciilcs.

“Yes. He’s the Chief Accountant ”

1 here was a short p lu'e. “This is quite beside the point,’
apologized Gilts, “but "vt hat’s the great idea-’”

“Why shouldn’t 1 marrv Rudolph if I fetl hkc it^”

“I don’t know. I was wondering how ^ou cime to feel
like it, that’s all.”

She gunned suddtnh. “\o’i aie a noxious cid, Giles.
I do tlunk I ought to marry someone or other, because
Kenneth will, sooner or later, and 1 don’t want to b^ left
stranded.” A rather forlorn look eamc into hei e\es “I’m
sick of bemg all alone, and ha\ing to look after mtself, and,
anyway, [ like Rudolph a lot ”

“I see. And did Arnold ol jeet ”

“Of course he did. I thought he’d be rathei pleased at
getting nd of his responsibihtics as a nutter of fact, because
he’s tned often enough to marry me f So I wtotc and t ild
Jtiim about it, because though tou say I’m unteasonable I
quite realize I can’t get nurricd. or anything, vithout his
consent till I’m twenty-five. And instead of sendmg me lus
blessing, he wrote the filthiest letter, and said he wouldn’t
hear of it.” '

“Why?”

“No reason at all. Snobbery.”

“Now, look here, Tonyl” Giles said. “I know \mold.

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

l6

and I know you, 1 don’t say he was the type of fellow I
cultivate, but he wasn’t as bad as you and Kenneth thought
him. \es, I know you two had a rotten time with him, but
it’s alv ays been my firm conviction that you brought a lot of
it on yourselves. So don’t tell me tlial he refused to give his
consent to your marriage without letting } ou know v^hy, J le
was much more likely not to care a dninn what you did.”

“Well, he didn’t like Rudolph,’’ said Antonia restivelv.
“He wanted me to make a better match.”

Clilcs sightd. “'^y^ou’d bccUr let me sec his letter, where
is it?”

She pointed to the aslitra> at the end of the table, a sort c<f
naughty triumph in her eyes.

Chics looked at the black ashes in it, and llicn rather stern!)
at his cousin. Tony, you little fool, what mad^, you do such
a damned stlly things”

“I had to, (hies, really 1 had to! You knovf that awful
way we all have of blurting out what we happen to be
thinking? Well, I went and (old those poUcenien I’d liad a
letter fiom Arnold, and thei were instantly mustard-keen
to sec it. And it hadn’t am thing to do with the murder; it
was just private, sci T burned it. It’s no use asking me wlial
was in it, because I shan't tell you. It just wasn’t the sort of
letter you want anyone else to see.”

lie looked at licr frowntngb. “You’re not miking things
very’^ easy tor me, '1 otu . J caii’t Iielp you it )ou don’t trust
me.

She slipped her hand confidingly into one of his. “I know?’,
and I’m awfully sorry, Inir it’s just One of I'hosc 'J hings.
We needn’t say I’ve burned the letter. We can clmck the
ashes out of the window, and pretend it’s lost.”

“CjO on, and tell me the rest of the story,” ( jiles said.
“When did you receive the letter?”

“V/^cterday, at tea-time. And 1 rang up l^'aton Place, but

DEATH IN THE STOCKS ZJ

Arnold wasn’t there, so 1 naturally supposed he v^as coming
do\itn to Ashleigh Green, with one of ins fanej ladies, and
i got the car out, and came after lum.”

“I or the r ord’s sake, lony, leave out the bit about the
laney lad}’ No sane policeman will e\ei believe }oa would
motor down to argue with \rnold when you thought he hid
a woman with him ”

She opf ned 1 ei e}es «:t him ‘ hut I did*”

t s, I knoM } ou did ^ ou \% ould hut don t s i} i« ^ ou
cion t know he had a woman vi^h him, do -vou"”

' No, but It seemed Iikeh ”

‘ Ihcn leave that V' happened when \ou goi to

till cottage ”

‘ Notlung Arnold wasn t there So i squeezed m thtougn
Ihf p <ntf\ wmd )\v, and wuUil tor h<jn "S ou know how it iS
whcjxon does that ou keep on 1 .II, 1 11 gi\e Inm

iiiothcf half liour,’ and tmii H>tt ci slips h \nd iii\wav
fknew he w stoinma: lee vheplieew ispiepuLd Veil,
he (Udii i turn up, md didi’t turn up, and I d Jn’t mu^h
f uic\ motoung back again at tiiat hour, so 1 v ent to bed ”

( an ^ ou pioT e \ ou didn t go out ot the co^'tagi ^ ^ im ihat
ui;ht^’ t ikssiid

‘ \o, t et TUH T did 1 toiA bol a run stinicwhere ib )Ut
half past eie\en, inJ lie li id 1 uusl up with i rcmt\Ci ’

‘ 1 at 111 A l^eusvlul \.ii}ont^ theiLti t%er''’

"'^ts, a w^onuu like 1 moulunjL lai hu it i n’t uswlm,
in tad, lailcr the le\cr^e, because J wilkee T>v<iids the
\illait r^s fai as the cioss lo'^ds, and 1 was coming back
when I met the hen andutru\ei outlit So [ might quite
easil} hne siuek a knife into Vtnold hef thit \ad
pi.thaps 1 ought to tell ^oLl thit J got leliitsei H >od on tins
skirt, and had lo wasli it Because wN Jie potici cunt » was
dt>jng It So whit with that and m} being a tiitle >natkish
with them at hrst, on account of thinking the\ 'el to ne about

28

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

the dog-faght, I daresay i may have set them against me.”

“I shoidn’t be surprised,” said Giles. “One other
question Does Kenneth know you’re here?”

“No, as a matter of fact he doesn’t. He was out when I
got Arnold’s letter But j ou know what he is* I daresay he
hasn’t even noticed that I’m not at home. If he has, he’ll
.merely suppose 1 told him 1 was gomg away for the night and
he forgot.”

“T wasn’t worrying about that. Did anyone know 3 'ou
were coming hcre^”

“Well, I didn’t say anything to anjone,” rephed ^Vntonia
helpfully She regarded him with a certain amount of
anxiety. “Do j ou suppose they’ll think I did it'^”

“I liopc not Ihe fact that you spent the night at the
cottage ought to tell m jour favour. But you must stop
foohng about, Tom The pohee v'^ant jou to account for
your movements last night Vte must trust tha^thej won’t
inquire too closely into the letter Arnold wrote you. Other-
wise j ou’ve nothing to conceal, and you must just tell them
the truth, and atiswe± any questions they may put to you.”

“How do you know I’ve nothing to coneeaP” inquired
Antonia, toeing him wiekedlv “I wouldn’t have minded
murdetmg Arnold last night ”

“I assume you have nothing to eonceal,” Giles said a little
sharply.

She smiled “Nice (I'les. Do you loathe being dragged
into our murky affairs’'”

“I can tliink of things 1 like better. You’d better come
along to the ( hief ( onstabk’s oHice, and apologize for being
such a nuisance ”

“And answer a lot of questions^” she asked doubtfully.

“Yes, answer anytlung you can, but try not to say a lot of
unnecessary tilings.”

She looked rather nervous. “Wcllj you’d better frown at

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 29

me if I do. I wish you could make a statement for me.”

“So do I, but I can’t,” said Giles, getting up, and opemng
the door. “I’ll llnd out if the Chief Constable is disengaged.
You stay where you are.”

He was gone for several minutes, and when he returned it
was wth the Superintendent and a Constable. Antonia
looked at the Constable with deep misgiving. Her cousin
smiled reassuringly and said. “This is Superintendent
Haunasyde, Tony, from Scotland Yard.”

“How— -how griml” said Antoma in a small voice. “It's
particularly bitter because I’ve always thought how much I
should hate to be mixed up in a murder case, on account ot
havmg everjnhing y ou say turned round till you find you’ve
said something quite different.”

I'he Superintendent Isent to pat bill. “1 won’t do that,”
he pronused. “1 only want you to tell me just how’ j'ou camt
to visit your brother last night, and what y on did.”

Antonia drew in her breath. “He was loi my brother,”
she said. “I’m sick to death of correcting that nustakc. He
was nothing more than half.”

“I’m sorry,” said the Superintendent, “"b'ou sec, I’ve only
just tome into tius case, so you must forgue me if 1 haven’t
quite mastered the details. ^lU you sit down? Now I
understand from Inspector Jerrold that y’^ou came to Ashleigh
Green yesterday because ymu warned to see tout ha'f-
brother on a private matter. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” said Antonia.

“And when you arrived at the cottage what did you do^”

Antonia gave him a concise account of her movements.
Once or twice he prompted her with a question, while the
(.unstable, who had seated himseL by the door, busily
wrote in shorthand. The Superintendent’s manner, unhke
the Inspector’s, was so free from suspicion, and his way of
putting his questions so quiet and understanding, that

30 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

Antonia’s wary reserve soon left her. When he asked her if
bhc was on good terms with Arnold Vereker sJie replied
promptl): ‘‘No, very bad terms. J know it isn’t any use
concealing that, because everyone knows it. \K'e both
were.”

“Both?”

“My brother Kenneth and I. V‘ e live together, flc’s an
artist.”

“T see. \K^cie ^ou on bad terms yMth jour half brother for
anj specific reason, or merely on general grounds?”

She wrinkled up her nose. “Well, not so much one
spechic reason as two or three, lie was our guardian -at
least, he’d stopped being Kenneth's guardian, because
Kenneth ts (ner tv ent} fi\v. I lued with him till a year ago,
when 1 decided ! couldn'i slick it anv longer, Mid then I
cleared out, and )tuncd Kenneth.”

“Did jour bro— half-brother ob|ect to tliat'"'’^

"'Oh n(\ not m the least, because we'd )ust had a llaming
row" abcait a di*- guesting menhont he was trjmg to pu<!h me
oif on U), and he was e»^tieirelv gUcl to be iid oJ me.”

“And had this quarrel pcisistedr'”

“More or Ic^^. Well, no, not realh. We mcielj kept out
of each otlier’s wa\ rs much as poAible. 1 oon’t mean that
wc didn't quatrel wi cn we nappen^^d to meet, but it wasn't
about the merchant, or having It fi J aton Mace, but )usl any
old thing.”

The twmkle grew, “'i ell me, i Vciiker, did jou come
down to Ashlcigh Cjrcen wath the init ntjon of continuing an
old quarrel, vr starting a new one?”

“Starting a new one. ( )h, that isn’t fair! You made me
saj" that, and it isn’t in the kast wKat I meant. J w^on’i have
tliat written down for me to sign.'’

“It shan’t be,” he assured her, “But you did come down
because you were angrj witli him, didn't jdu?”

PEATH IN llIE. STOCKS 3I

"‘Did 1 say ttiat to the rnspector?” y\ntonia demanded.
He nodded. “All right, then, yes.”

“Why were you angry, Miss Vercker?”

“Because he’d had the infernal neck to say 1 wasn’t going
to marry the man I’m engaged to.”

“WJio is that?” inquired the Superintendent.

“I don’t see what that’s got to do witii it.”

Giles Gairingtun intciposcd: “is jour engagement a
sccivt, Ti onj ?”

“No, but ”

“Then don't be sillv/’

She Hushed, and looked dcjwn at her hands. “1 hs name ]s
Mesuricr,” she said. “He* works in my half-brother’s firm.”

“\nd your half-brother objeeted to tiic eng\geme>/t^”
es, beeausc he was a ghasih Muib.”

“So he wiotc a letter to \oie lotbiddm^^ tlic engagement?”

‘Acs- -- T hat is — ^cs/’

Ihe Supciintcndent waited a moment. ‘A ou don't seem
very sure about that, ^llss \"crckc r,”

‘A cs, i am. I le did write.”

“/\nd J think desinned nis loiter, haven’t ou?'’

said Ilannasjde quiet b .

Her eves fliw to his facv. then she burst out buLdung:
“That’s clcvei of you. How did vou gutss.^ ’

“Whv did you do that, iNbss ^'crck

“Well, principal!) bei iiise it was the sort 'd \trer <hat
would make am (me w^anr to commit murder, and I thought
it would be safer,” replied Antonia ingenuously.

The Superintendent looked at her thouehtfulh for a
moment, and tl;cn got up. “I think it was a pitv you des-
troyed it,” he said. “But wc w^on’t gc i*'to that now\”

“Are you going to arrest me?” \ntonia a^^ked.

He smiled. “Not immediately. Air, Carrington, jf 1 could
have a few moments’ conversation with you?”

3Z DEATHINTHE STOCKS

‘'Can I go home?” said Antonia hopefully.

“(iettainly, but I want )ou to sign youi statement first,
please. The Constable will have it ready for you in a moment
or two.”

“Where’s your car, lony?” asked Giles. “At the cottage?
Well, wait for me here, and I’ll iake you out to collect it,
and give you some lunch.”

“WcU, thank (lod for that,” said Antonia. “I’ve just
discovered I’ve got exactly two and fivepence ha’penny on
me, and I want some petrol.”

“How hke you, Tonyl” said Giles, and folloived the
Superintendent out of the room.

CRfWl'ER iV

Tiil C.hicf Constable had gone to lunch, and Jus olitce was
empty, llannasyde closed the door and said: “I shall want to
go thrc'ugh the dead man’s papers, Mr. Carrington. Can
you meet me at his house to-morrow morning?”

Giles nodded. “Certainly,”

“And the ’Vi/iU . . .?”

“In my keeping.”

“J shall have to ask you to let me see ii.”

Giles said, with a dickering smile; “It would be vtasie of
your time and my energy to prote&t, wouldn’t it?”

“Thanks,” said llannasyde, his otvn lips curvmg a little.
“It would, of counst.” He took out his notebook and opened
it. ‘ I understand that the dead man was chairman and
managing director of the Shan Hills hiine? Is that correct?”

“Quite correct,”

“Unmarried?”

Giles sat down on the edge of the table, ‘ T es.”

“Can you tell me of what !us immediate family consists?”

“His half-brother and half-sister, that’s all.” Giles took
out a cigarette and tapped it on his case. “Arnold Vereker
was the cldcvst son of Geoffrey Vereler bv his first wife, my
father’s .sister, Maud. He was forty last December. There
was one other son by that marriage, Roger, who would be
tliirty-eight if he wete alive now — w^hich, thank heaven, he’s
not. He was not precisely an ornament to the family. There
w'as a certain amount of relief felt when he cleared out years
ago. He went to South America, .anc’ believe got liimself
mixed up in some revolution or other. j\nyway, he’s been
dead about seven years now. Kenneth Vereker and his sister

33

DLAllI IN THE STOCKS

34

Antonia are the offspring of a second marriage. Their
mother died shortly after Antonia’s birth. My uncle died a
month or two before Roger> leaving both Kenneth and
Antonia under Arnold’s guardianship.”

“lhank you, Mr. Carrington: I hoped you would be able
to help me. (./an you tell me what sort of a man Arnold
Vereker was?”

"'A man with a genius for making enemies,” replied Giles
promptl) . ‘"lie was one of those natural bullies who can yet
make themselves very pleasant when they choose. Queer
chap, with a streak of appalling vulgarity. ^ et at the bottom
there was something quite likeable about him. ( hief hobbieo,
women and social climbing.”

“1 tliink I know the type. From what 1 can make out he
had a bit of a bad reputation down here.”

‘d shouldn't ])C suipiiscd. Vrnold would never go week-
ending to an hold lor fear of being seen, lie al^a^s wanted
to stand well in the t\es of the world, flence Riverside
{.oUage. Is it known, b) tlie 'Vay, whether lie had one of his
fancies uiili him Ins mglu*'"”

“Very little -s knovn, ( anington. ^\e have mit yet
traced his car. lliut ma\ conceivabh tell a talc. \\ hoevet u
was iTiUrdcrecl jour cousin presumabh dio\c awa\ m the
car.”

"‘Neat,” approved Giles.

d'he Superintendent snukd faintly. “You share Miss
VcrckerY dislike of the man?”

“Mure or less. And I have one of those cast-iron alibis
which I understand render one instantly suspect. I was
playing bridge in mv father’s house on V imbledon ("ommon.”

I'he Superintendent nodded. “Gne more question, Mr.
Carrington, (.an jou tell me anjthing about tliis man” —
he consulted his notdiook— “Mesurier?”

“Beyond the fact that he is the (^hief Accountant in my

DKATIl IN TITL STOCKS

55

cousin’s lirm, nothing, Fni afraid, i am barely acquainted
with him.’"

‘‘I see. I don’t think T need keep you any longer now.
You’ll be wanting to take i\*iss Verektr . Sliall we say
ten o’clock in 1 .aton Place to-morrow?”

ccrtainl}. '^"ou’d better have my card, by tlic way.
T should be \ery grateful if )ou would let me know what
happen*^.”

lie held out lus hand, tlie Supcrmtriidcnt grasped ii for a
moinent, and opened the do(.f ioi liiin to pass »)ut.

\ntonia was engaged in powdctiny^ licr w'iitn (Iile^
rc)omcd her.

"‘Hullo’” she said, “i tlitaight '‘ou’d deserted me. What
did he want?”

"‘One (jT two })articularj>. I’m '\rnokrs cj^eeiitor, }ou
kmm. Coire along and i’ll giv( \ou some lunch.”

r>hss Vereker ’vvas hiingr\, and not c\en the intelligence
tliat she nijglit ha\e to I'c present at the inquest mtericred
with her appetite. Sht ate a hearty me and by three o'clock
was once tniirc at Ki\crsidc (x)itJL;c, lucking her car out of
the garage. “ \re )Ciu c<Mning bad: to Jovn, too?” she
inquired.

“’i es, as soim .’s Pvc ifv id oui tlie date of ilx inquest.
I’ll It^ok in lo-night to ju\c a ^^onl ith iveniiLth. *' Imd tiic
rose bushl”

“I’ve been drning this car lor o\«.i a jear,” said Yntoma,
affronted.

“Jt looks like It,'’ he agreed, his e\es on .i battered mud^
guard.

,\ulonia slammed tlic gear-lc\er mio iirst \nd started with
a jerk. Her cousin 'watched her drive o^T, narrouly escaping
a collision with the gate post, and tlx . got into Ins own car
again, and dro\e back to llanbotoiigh.

Rather more than an hour later Antonia let herself into the

36 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

Studio that she shared with her brother, and found him in an
overall, a cup of tea m one hand and a novel in the other. He
was a handsome >oung man, with untidy dark liair and lus
sister’s brilliant eyes. He raised them from his book as she
came in, said “Hullo.” in a disinterested voice and went on
reading.

Antoma pulled off her hat and threw il vaguely in the
direction of a chair. Tt fell on the floor, but bey^ond saying
damn she did no more about it. “Stop reading* I’ve got
some news,” she announced.

“Shut up,” rephed her brother. “I’m all thrilled with this
murder story. Sluin’t be long. Have some tea or sometlung ”

Antoma, respecting this mtiod of absorption, sat down and
poured herself out some tea in the slop-basm. Kenneth
Vereker fimshcd reading the last chapter of his novel, and
threw It aside. “T ousv,” he icmarkcd. “By the wat,
Alurgatroyd has been yapping at me all day to know whtre
you’ve been. Did you happen to tell me? Damned if •
could remembtr. Whei e Itrve y ou been?”

“Down at Ashkigh C reen. Xrnold’s been murdered.”

“Arnold’s been what?”

“Murdered,”

Kenneth looked at hei with lifted brows. “ Jokc^”

“No, actually murdered. Popped off.”

“Great jumping Jehoshaphat ” he exclaimed. “^X’ho
didiD”

“Tliey don’t know. T believe they rather think I did.
Someone shoved a knife into him, and stuck him in the stocks
at Ashleigh Gretn, 1 went dowm to see him, and spent the
mght there.”

“What the devil for"”

“Oh, he -wrote me a stmker about Rudolph, so 1 thought
I might as well go and have it out with lum. But that’s not the
pomt. The point is, he’s dead.”

DEATH IN THL STOCKS

37

Kenneth looked at her in silence for a moment. Then be
carefully set down his cup, and poured himself out some
more tea. “Too brcath-takmg. Don’t know that I altogether
hekeve it. Oh, Murgatroyd, Tony says Vmold’s been done-
in.”

A stout woman in a black frock and a voluminous apron
had come into the studio with a clean cup and saucer. She
said secerely: “That’s as may be, and If it’s true you couldn’t
say but what it’s a judgment. But there’s no call for anyone
to drink their tea out of the slop bowl that I know of. For
shame, Miss Tony! And where was \ou last mght, I should
like to know.'* Answer me tliat.”

“Dowm at Arnold’s cottage. J forgot to tell }ou. \^hat
a mind you’ve got, Murgatrotd! Where did yoi* think
1

“That’s neither here uor tlicrc. W liat’s all this nonsense
about Mr. Xrnold?”

“Murdered,” said aVntouia, selecting a sandwich from the
dish. “WTiat’s in this?”

“Stinking iish,” replied her brother. “CIo on about
Arnold. Was he murdered in the cutngc?”

“There’s anchovy in them sandwiches, and I II thank you,
Master Kenneth, not to use sach language ”

“Shut up, we want to hear about Arnold. Do get on,
Tony!”

“I’ve told you already he was i. the cillrge stocks. I
don’t know any more.”

“And quite enough too!” said Murgatroyd austerely.
“I never heard of such a thing, putting corpses into stocks!
WTiatcver nextl”

“Not in the best of good taste,” c< i.'^rded Kenneth. “Did
you discover him, Tom?”

“No, the police dtd. And then they came to the cot-
Ugc and took me off to the Police Station to make a

3B DLATHINTHESTOCKS

statement. So I sent for Giles, because I thought it safest”

‘‘And 1 hope,” said Murgatroyd, picking up Antonians
hat, “that Mr. Giles gave you a piece of his mind, wJiich
rU be bound he did, Cietting yourself mixed up in nasty
murder cases! Fancy anyone up and murdering Mr. \rnold'
I don’t know what the world’s coming to, I’m sure. Kot
but what there’s many as could be spared less. If you’ve
finished with that tray I’ll take it into tlic kitchen. Miss
Tony.”

Antonia finished v^hat was left m the slop-^bowl and put
it down.

“All light T here'll be an inquest, Ken. Ciilcs sa\s 1 shall
probably have to show up. He’s commg hcic to night to
see you.”

Her bi other stared at her. “See me? W hat fi >r^”

“f didn’t ask.”

“W ell, I don’t mind him conung if he wanti> to, l)ut whv
on earth

lie broke ojT and suddenly swung his Ices down from
the arm of tlic <.hair in uluch he vavS lounging. “Ha! 1
have It!”

“Ha\e wliat?”

“I’m the hen,” sa.d Kenneth

“So you aid” said Antonu slowly. “I ni\cr thought
of that”

“No, nor did I, but under Father’s Will 1 must be. Two
hundred and fifty thousand pounds^ 1 mu'.t get on to Violet
and tell her’”

He jumped up, but was checked by Ins sister. “Rot* How
do y ou know?”

“Because I made it mv business to find out when Arnold
wouldn’t advance me a mere five hundred. Murgatroyd,
Murgatroyd! I’m rich! Do you hear? I’mricW”

Murgatroyd, who had come hack into the room to fold

DLAiii IN rnr stocks

39

up the tea-cloth, replied “Yc<;, I hear, and if you take my
advice. Master Kenneth, jou’ll keep a still tongue in jout
head. The idea of shoatm<); out, ‘I’m rich ’ when \(;ur hilf
brother met lus end like he has

“\vho caies how he met ins end as lorn; as he did meet it-^
What’s Violet’s number'^”

“Don’t \ou talk lile that, M'^sUr Kenneth* llov would
\c>u like to have a knile stuck m Kast\% underhand uav
oi killing amf)nc, th it s wl at 1 call it ’

“J don’t see it at jII,” objected Kenneth ‘ Jt s no worse
than shooting a person, and iar more sensible Shooting’s
noisy, for om tJiimr, and, feu another, ^ou lene a bu*let ix»
vour man, anci it gets triced li» \on Whereas o kmfc doesn’t
ka\e anvthuie beliiAcl, it d c'is\ to get r<d of”

“1 don’t know I ( \\ \oa ean stand tliere and uiv sueh
tnngs ” exclaimed \iiiruitio\d indinunth ‘Dovnughr
jndeeeiit, tint’s uhit t is* Nut no jttiount tint tdking
will make me sa> either thin what t do sa^, and stand b^
Ith a dirty, mean irick to 1 nilc people ”

Kenneth wa\ed lus huici', U her m one ot Iv*' cvttable
gestures “It isn’t itw dirtier or ineincr ihin an' othet wa^*
^o\jL make me stek witl th.t kind oi nuvkish tvaddl(*
W hat /r Viola’s iiuniKr'"’

“You needn’t get so cio^s about it’ sud \rtonn.
“Personall) 1 rather agiei w idi ' h \ atJo\d ”

“People who start a sentcn< e h pcisondI\ ( md tl e\’it
always women) oughi to In thrown H) the lions jt’s a
repulsive habit ”

“1 probabl} must hn e etiij lit it liom V.olet, s ud \ntoma
musingl}.

“Shut up about \ iole<-* I')oesshc i ilh it^”

“Oltcn ”

“I’ll tell her about it What — for the fiftieth time — is hci
number‘d”

40 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

“Nothing four nine six, or something. You’d better look
It up. Did either of you take the dogs for a walk this
mommg?”

“Take the dogs for a walk? No, of course I didn’t,”
said Kenneth, fiickmg over the leaves of the telephone
directory. “Hell, someone’ll have tO do this for me! There
are pages of Williams' Blast the wench, why must she have
a name hke that^”

“There’s no call for you to swear,” said Murgatroyd.
“You want to look for the initial. No, Miss Tony, }ou knov
very well that one thing 1 won’t do is take those murdering
dogs of jours out. You get rid of them and have a mce httle
fox-terrier, and we’ll sec.”

“Oh, veil, I’d better take them now, 1 suppose,” rephed
Antonia, and put on her hat again and strolled out.

The flat, winch was over a garage, had a small yard attached
to It, reached by an iron stair leading out of the kitchen
The garage, which Antoma rented, had a door givmg on to
the yard, and had been comerted into a roomy kennel.
Three bull terrier bitthes occupied it, and greeted their
mistress in the boisterous manner of their kmd. She put
them all on leashes, called Bill to heel, and started out for a
walk, sped on her way by^ JMurgalroy^d, who came to the top
of the iron stairs to say that if she happened to be passing a
dairy she might bring in another hall-dozen eggs. “Ten to one
we’U ha\e that Miss Wilbams here to supper,” Murgatroyd
said gloomily “Enough to make your poor Mother turn in
her grave' Her and her poster sketches' And what’s to stop
her and Master Kenneth gettmg married now Mr. Arnold’s
no more^”

“Nothing,” rephed Antonia, resisting the efforts of one
of the bitches to entangle her legs with the leash.

“That’s what I say,” agreed Murgatroyd. “There’s always
something to take the gilt off the ginger-bread.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

41

Antonia left her to her cogitations, and set off in the
direction of the Kmbankment. When she returned it was an
hour later, and she had forgotten the eggs. Having given
her dogs their evening meal, she ran up the steps to the
kitchen, where she found Murgatrojd making pastry. A
fair girl, with shrewd grey eyes and a rather square chin, was
sitting with her elbows on the table, watching Murgatroyd.
She smiled when she saw Antonia, “Hullo!” she said. "Just
looked in for a minute.”

"I haven’t got the eggs,” announced .\ntonia.

“It’s all right: I got tlicm,” said the other girl. "I hear
your half-brother’s be-’n murdered. I don’t condok. do I?”

“No. Is the blushing Violet here?”

“Yes,” said Leslie Rivers in a verj' steady voice. “So 1
thought [ wouldn't stay.”

“You can’t anyway: there isn't enough to cat. Seen
Kenneth?”

“Yes,” said I eslie Rivers again. “He’s wdth Violet. I
suppose it’s useless for me U' say anything, bur if Kenneth
isn’t careful he’ll land himself m jug. I should think the
police arc bound to tliink ht murdered yory: half-brother.”

“Ko, they won’t. They think [did. Kenneth wasn’t thtre.'’

‘He liasn’t got an alibi/’ stated Leslie in her matter-of-
fact way. “He doesn’t seem to see how with him inheriting
all tliat money, and being in debt and loatlung Arnold,
things ate bound to point his w’ay.”

“1 bet he didn’t do it, all the same,” replied Vntonia.

“The point is you may find it hard to prove he didn’t.”

“I wonder if he could have?” \ntoma said thoughtfully.

Murgatroyd let the rolling pin fall with a t latter. “1 never
did m all my bom days! hat ever will you sav ne\t. Miss
1 ony? our own brother too, as wouklfl’t hurt a tlv!”

“If you had a fly-swotting competition, he’d win it,”
Antonia replied sensibly. “I’m not saying he did kill Arnold:

41 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

1 only wondered. I wouldn’t put it above him, would you,
Leslie?”

“I don’t know. He’s a weird creature. Yes, of course I
would. What rot you are talking, Tony! I’m going.”

Five minutes later Antonia wandered into the studio and
nodded curtly to the girl in th*" big arm-chair. ‘‘Hullo!
come to celebrate?”

JMiss \)villjams raised a pair cT velvety brown eyes to
Antonia’s face, and put up a veil manicured hand to smooth
her sleek black hair. “Tony darling, I don’t think you
ought to talk like that,” she said. “lYrsonally, I feel- — ”
“(lood Ch)d, you wcic right!” exclaimed kenneth. “i\iy
adored one, where did joii pick up that bestial habit? Don't
sa} personally, I implore voul”

*\ faint tmgc or colour stole itito the creamy ch(‘cks.
“Well, reallj", Kennuli!” said Ujss \XilliHms,

“Tor Ciod'b sake don’t hurt her Icchngs ” begged Antonia.
“I’m damned if I’ll hove any nauseating reconciliations over
supper. Nntl while we happen to be on tins subject, who the
devil asked you how you think i should talk, Violet?”

The brown eyes narrowed a litdc. “1 suppose I can have
my Opinions, can’t I?” said Miss \\ illiaine sillaly.

look lovely when jou’ic angiy,” said J'lenneth
suddenly. “( nj on, lony: sav something more.”

Miss Williams’ beautiful lips parted and showed small
very white teeth. “J think jou’rt perfectly horrid, both of
you, and 1 utterly refuse to quarrel witli you. Voof little me!
What chance have F got with two people at me at once?
How awful for you to have actually been at Mr. Vcrckcr’s
liouse when it happened, -Jonyl it must have been ghastly
for you. F simply can’t bear to think of Jt. F et’s talk of
something else!”

“Why can’t you bear to think of it?” asked Kenneth, not so
much captious as interested. “Do you object to blood?”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 45

She gave a shudder. "'Don’t Kenneth, pkasA Really, I
can’t stand it!”

" lust as you like, my treasure, though why you should
turn queasy at the thought of Arnold’s being stabbed I can’t
imagine. You never even knew him.”

"Oh no, I shouldn’t know him if I saw him,” said Violet.
"It isn’t ihuL 1 )iist don’t hke talking about gruesome
things.”

""'^he’s being womanly,” cxphined \nionia. Her eye
alighted on a couple ol uo!dn*cIvd boltks. “Whtte the
hell did they spring from-”

“f lioncd ’em olf rnmk < hewc/ ttpliul Kenneth. 'YVc’vc
got to celebrate this.”

”1 hat’s all right,” sootKd ^ntoniu “He meant his
accession to y^calth.”

"'Cut you can’t drink champacme when r. X^ercker’s
been nuudered! It « dcceni ’

"J can drink champagne am ttniL,” icplicd Antonia.
""\\ liat have you dime to v our nails^”

Violet extended her hands. ">il\er lacquer. Do )ou
like It?”

"Ko,” said Antonta np^'th, it jou’rc the heir you’ll
ha%c to male me an allowance because I want a ncs\ car.”

\11 right, amtlung vou say,” agreed Kenneth.

"‘ThcicaresuitMobc Death Du tie*- ’ ViokTsaidpracticallj.
“It’s absolute Iv wicked the amount one has u> pay. Still,
there’s the house as veil. 1 hit’ll be ^outs, won’t it,
Kt nneth?”

"‘Do you mean tliat barrack m J aton I^la c?” demanded
Kenneth. ou don’t imagine I’m <iomg to li\e in a barn
like that, do } OP

"Wliy ever noP” Violet sat up staling at him. ""It’s an
awfully good address.”

44 DFATH IN IRE STOCKS

“Who cares about an awfully good address^ If you’d
ever been inside it you wouldn’t expect me to live there. It’s
got Turkey carpets, and a lot of Empire furmture, and pmk
silk panels in the drawmg-room, and a glass lustre, and marble-
topped tables with gilt legs ”

e could always get rid of ar vthmg we didn’t hke, but 1
must say I hke mcc things, I mean thmgs that aie good.’’

“Turkey stair carpetmg and gilt imrrots^” said Kenneth
incredulously

“I don’t see wh-y not ”

“Darling, your taste is quite damnable ’

“I can’t sec that there’s any need for you to be rude, because
I Lkc things yisu dt>n’t like I think T urkty carpets are soil
of warm and - and expensive looking ’

Antonia was measuring out the ingiedicnts for cocktaih,
but she lowered the bottle of gin she was holding, and
directed one of her clear looks at Violet oa don’t care
whether a thing’s good to look at or not as long as it leeks ot
monci she remarked

Violet got up, quickly \et gracctuIK “Vi ell, wlut if I do
hke luxurv-’’’ she said, her low \oice sharpening a httle
“If tou’d been born with a taut for met things, and never
had a penny to spend which »ou hidn’t worked and slaved
for, you’d feel the same'” One ot hei long, capable hands
disdainfully brushed the skirt of her frock “J ven my
clothes T make m\self' ^nd I want I want Pans models,
and mce furs, and my hair done exert week at I ugene’s,
and— oh, all the nice things tliat n ake life worth living’’’
“Well, don’t make a st>ng ’bout it,’’ recommended
\ntonia, quite unmoyed “You’ll be able to have all th^t
if Kenneth really docs inherit ’

“Of course I inherit,” said Ktnneth impitiently “Hustle
along with the drinks, Tony t”

Antonia suddenly put down the gin bottle “( an’t You

I>HATH IN THE STOCKS

45'

do it. Tvc suddenly remembered I was supposed to meet
Rudolph for lunch this morning. I must ring him up.” Slie
took the telephone receiver off the rest, and began to dial.
‘‘Did he ring me up, do you know?”

“Dunno. Don’t think so. How much gin have you
put in?”

“Lashmgs . . . Hullo, is that Mr. Mesurier’s Hat? Oh, is it
} ou, Rudolph? 1 say, I'm friglitfullj sorry about limch. Did
vou wait ages? But it v dsn’i niv fault. It truly wasn’t.”

At the other end of the telephone there was a tiny pause.
Then a man’s voice, light m texture, rather nasal, rather
metallic, m the manner of modern voices, rephed hesitatingly
‘‘Is it you, Tonv^ I didn’t quite catch — ^the line’s not v'ery
clear. \\ hat did vou sat ?”

‘"laUncW” eminciatcd Vn'onui distinctly.

^‘Lunch? Ob, my God! I clean foigrn’ Fm dc\a«latingi)
som! Gan’t think how 1 could

"‘VCcrcn't you thcrc^'" uenutKlcd Antonia.

*Ihcre was another pause. ''Ton\ dear, the line’s redlv
awful. ( an’t make out a word you say.”

“Put a sock m it, Rudolph. Did you forget about
lunch?”

“My dear, will you ever tv^rgive me?” besought the voice.

“Oh yes,” replied \ntonia. “J forgot too. That’s what
1 rang up about. I V/as down at \i old’s place at \shleigh
Cireen, and ”

“Ashleigh Circcn!”

“Yes, why the horror^ "

“I’m not horrified, but vhat on earth made you go down
there?”

“I can’t tell you over the tclepht i*' ^ ou’d better come
round. And bring something to cat; there’s practically
nothing here.”

“But, Tony, wait! 1 can’t make out what took you to

46 DIAIHINIHESIOCKS

Ashleigh Green. H?s anything happened^ I mean

“Yes, \mo]d^ been 1 jllcd ”

Again the pause “Killt repeated the \()ire “C^ood
God’ ^ ou don’t mean murdeied, do

“(X course 1 do Bring ‘omc cold meat, 01 something,
and come to supper I heie’ll be c^ump gm ”

‘Than Oh, all riglit’ 1 mean, thanl s \ery much I’ll

be round,” said Rudolph \*csurier

ill ol which,” rtmsiked Kenneth, shikinu the cock-
tails piofessiomllv, “1 ^^at^nr that the boj trend is on his
ua) \\ ill he be bonho lous, • rn^

‘Oh, rather ” piomiscd Xntoiua blithel} “lie can't stand
\inold at m\ orue '

CI1APT1..R V

There was no sitting-room in the Verekers’ flat other than
the big studio. Supper was laid on a black oak table at one
end, after one dog-whip, two tubes of paint, The Observer
(folded open at Torquemada’s cross-word), Chamberses
Dictionmy, The Times Ailas, a volume of Shakespeare, and
the Oxford Book of Verse had all been removed from it. While
JMurgatroyd stumped in and out of the studio with glasses
and plates, Kenneth took a last look at the half-completed
crossword, and amiounced, as was his invariable cusc6m, that
he was damned if he would ever try to do another. Rudolph
Mesurier, who had arrived with a \'eal and ham pic, and half
a loaf of bread, said he knew a man wb.o filled the whole
thing in in about twenty minutes; and Violet, carefully
powdering her face before a Venetian mirror, said that she
expected one had to have the 'rorquemada-/;////Y/ to be able to
do his cross-words.

‘"Where did them bottles come from?’’ demanded
Murgatroyd, transilxed by the sight of their opulent gold
necks.

“J.eft ovcs. from Frank (Tewe’s pi ’ty last week,” explained
Kenneth.

Murgatroyd sniffed loudly, and set down a dish with
unnecessary violence. “The idea!” she said. “Anyonc’d think
it was the funeral party already.”

Constraint descended on the two visitors. Violet folded
her lovely mouth primly, and cleai^’d her throat; Rudolph
IvJesutier fingered his tic and said awkwardly; “Frightful
thing about Mr. Vereker. I mean— it doesn’t seem possible,
somehow.”

47

48 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

Violet turned gratefully and favoured him with her slow,
enchanting smile. “No, it doesn’t, does it? 1 didn’t know him,
but it makes me feel quite sick to think of it. Of course I
don’t think Ken and Tony realize it yet — not absolutely.”

“Oh, don’t they, my sweet?” said Kenneth derisively.

“Kenneth, whatever you felt about poor Mr. Vereker
when he was alive, 1 do think you might at least pretend to
be sorry now he’s dead.”

“It’s no use,” said ^Vntoma, spearing olives out of a tall
bottle. “You’d better take us as jou find us, Violet. You’ll
never teach Kenneth not to say cxactlj'^ what he happens to
think.”

“Well, 1 don’t tliink it’s a good plan,” replied Violet
rather coldly.

“1 hat’s only because he said that green hat of yours looked
like a hen in a lit. Besides, it isn’t a plan: it’s a disease. Ohvc,
Rudolph?”

“Thanks.” He moved over to the fat end of the studio,
where she was seated, perched on a comer of the dining-
table. As he took the ohve off the end of the meat-skewer
she had elected to use for her task, he raised his eyes to her
face, and said in a lou voice: “How did it happen? >Xhy
were you there? That’s what I can’t make out.”

She gave him back look for look. “On account of us. 1
wrote and told him we were going to get married, thinking
he’d be pleased, and probably send us a handsome gift.”

“Yes, I know. I wish you’d consulted me first. I’d no
idea ”

“Why?” interrupted Antonia. “Gone off the scheme?”

“No, not Good God, no! I’m utterly mad about you,
darling, but it wasn’t the moment. 1 mean, you know I’m ,
hard up just now, and a fellow like Vereker would be boimd
to leap to the conclusion that I was after your money.”

“I haven’t got any money. You can’t call five hundred a

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

49

year money. Moreover, several things aren’t paying any
dividend this year, so Vm practically a pauper.”

“Yes, but he had money. Anyway, 1 wish you hadn’t,
because as a matter of fact it’s landed me into a bit of a mess.
Well, not actually, 1 suppose, but it’s bound to come out
that we had a slight quarrel on the very day he was
murdered.”

Antonia looked up, and then acioss the room t<jwards the
other t'wo. They seemed to be absorbed in argument. She
said bluntly: ‘‘How do )ou knciw which day l\e was
murdered?”

His eyes, deep blue, and fringed with black iashes, held aP
at once a startled look, “f-- you told me, didn’t jou'"”

“No,” said Antonia.

He gave an uncertain laugh. you did, over the

telephone, "^i^ouVe forgotten. But vo\i see the position,
don’t you? Of couisc, it doesn’t reall> matlei, but the police
are bound to think it a bit fishy, and one doesn’t want to be
mixed up in anything- -I mean, in m\ position one has to be
somewhat circumspect.”

“Ycm needn’t vorry,” said Antoaia. “It’s me they think
lishy, I was there,”

“Tony, 1 simply don’t u lei. rand. \\h\ were jou thcre^
What in the world can lia\c jou there? ^ ou lu\en’t
been on speaking terms with Vercl "r for months, and then
\ou dash off to Riverside Cottage for the veek-end — it
doesn’t seem to me to make sense’”

“Yes, it docs. Arnold wrote me a stinking ktter from the
oHlce on Saturday morning, and I got it mat dav. I went
down to tackle him about it.”

“Ah, you darling!” Mesuricr said la’ mg liis lund in hers,
and pressing it. “You needn’t tell nu He wrote something
libellous about me. I can just imagine itl But jou shouldn’t
havc'-donc it, my sw^eet. I can look after myself.”

50 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

“Yes, I daresay you can,” answered Antonia, “but I
wasn’t going to have Arnold spreading lies about you all
the same.”

“Darhngl ^Vhat did he tell you?”

“He didn’t tell me anything specific, because I never saw
him. He wrote a few pages of drivel, all about how I should
very soon know the sort of blackguard 1 meant to marry, and
how you were a skunk, and a thief, and various other things
like that.”

“fiosh, he was a swine!’ Mesurier exclaimed, flushing.
“He realized, of course, that m another year he couldn’t
prevent our mariiage, so he tried to blacken me to you.
Have y ou got that kttci

“No, T burned it. I tlxmghr it w ould be safer.”

He looked at her intently. “'i ou mean in case the polite
got hold ('f it^ >00 aren’t keeping anytlung baclv, are you,
datlmg? If Veickcr nude au\ dennite accusatftin J wish
you’d tell me.”

“He diiln’t.” \nlofua got olf the table as Nlurgatroy’d
came into the studnj, and gLntcd towards her brother. “If
you’ve hmsiitd tjuancllmg, supper’s ready.” She thought
it orcr, and added conscientiously “ \nd if you haven’t.
It still r.”

Kenneth came towards the table. “I’ve nude her cross
again, haven’t 1, my lovely? V, here’s tlic oil and \ inegar?”

“I’m not ci<>ss,” Viokt said ma sad voice. “Only rather
hurt.”

“i\ly adored'” he said contritely, but with a gleam of his
impish smile.

“Yes, that’s all very well,” said Violet, taking her place
at the table, “but T sometimes think you only cate about my
good looks.”

He flashed his brilliant, half-laughing, half-earnest glance
at her. “J worship your good looks,” he said.

DEAlH IN THL STOCKS 5!

“Thank you,” replied Violet dryly.

“She isn’t really so good-looking,” observed Antonia,
wrestling with the joints of a cold fowl. “Her eyes are set 3
bit too far apart, for one thing, and 1 don’t know if j ou’vc
noticed, but one side of hei face isn’t as good as the other.”

“But look at that lovel> line of the jaw'” Kenneth said,
dropping the wooden salad spoon, and tracing the line in the
alt with his tnumb.

“\\hcn you’ve ql^lte finished, both of \ou” Violet pro
tested, bhe looked provocatively at \itsuriei, seated opposite
to her, and said' “Aren’t they awful'' Don’t you think we’re
fiightlully brave to marri them

He responded m kind, .md thet isejit up an interchange
of light badinage tliroughout the meal ..\ttcnipts 1 ' draw
rhe other two into the com ersation were not vtr\ sueecssful
Kenneth had a glowering lool on his faec, whieii Violet
could alwavs conjuie up b\ liilmg with anotner man; and
Antonia, wlicn appealed to In Violet to assure Mesuriet that
she didn’t look mai'clious in red, liul, on the (ontiatt,
positively haggish, leplicd with such ais^vstrous frankiKs>
that the topic broke olflikt i ■'nappe d thread

ou’rc an aitist, 'uen’t xoa"” sud Kud iiph na&tih

“NiO,” said Kenneth

“Well, 1 may not be an attist as you inohbrows un hi
stand It — ”

ou aren’t \ ou can’t draw ’

“Thank you, dear But ' m make a h\iug out ot tt,” said
Violet sweetly. ‘ \s a maltei ot fact ! do posfti designs and
comniertial woik, Mr Mesuiiei I lound 1 lud i s^ut ot
knack”- Kenneth sank his head ni his liand"- nd groaned—^
“a sort of knack,” lepeatcd \ lolet, “nd 1 s ippose me stuf
caught on I’ve always hid a sense ui colour, and hne,
and ”

“Oh, darling, do shut up” begged Kennetn ‘\ou’ve

5 ^

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

got about as much sense of colour and line as Tony’s bull-
terriers.”

Violet stiffened. ‘T don’t know if jou’re trying to annoy
me, but ”

“My angel, I wouldn’t annoy you for the world, but if
only jou’d just be, and not talk!” b»*ggcd Kenneth.

“I see. I’m to sit mum while 3'ou air your «ews.”

“She can’t possibly not talk at all, Kenneth,” said Antonia
reasonably. “V^hat he means is. Don’t talk Art.”

“Thank you, I’m quite aware tliat nobody but Kenneth
knows anything about Art,”

“\*Ccll, if you’re awate of it, why the hell do you ”

“Champagne!” said Rudolph, leaping into the breach.
“Miss VCiUiams, you will, won’t }*ou^ lonj^”

“Mfhy IS there never any icc in tins placed” demanded
Kenneth, suddenly divcited.

“Pecause we bought the oak coffer with the*money v/e
meant to spend on a refrigerator,” replied Antonia.

This change of topic, coupled with the champagne, saved
the party from breaking up there and then. No turther
references were made to Art, and b\ the time the quartette
rose from the tabic, and diifted over to the other end of the
xoom Violet liad softened towards Kenneth, who was
passionately anxious to make amends; and Rudolph had
volunteered to make Turkish coffee if Murgatroyd didn’t
mmd. lie and Antonia went off to the kitchen together, and
tmder Muigatro}d’s scornful but indulgent eje brewed a
decoction which, though it would ha^ c puzzled a T urk, was
quite drinkable.

It was a warm evening, and all this exertion made Antonia
so hot that she announced her intention of having a hath.
She withdrew into the bathroom, reappearing in the studio
a quarter of an hour later in beach pyjamas, which became
her very well, but offended Murgatrojd, who told her she

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

ought to be ashamed of hetself, on a Sunday and all. Kcnnctli,
flat on a divan, had taken off his coat, somewhat to Violet s
disapproval, and was lymg with his hands hnked behind his
head, and his shirt open at the throat:. Violet sat on a floor
cushion, lookmg graceful and cool, and self-possessed, and
Rudolph Mesurier, who had compromised with the heat b
undoing the buttons of lus rather too-waistcd coat, leancJ
against the window blowing smoke rmgs.

Ten minutes latet the door bell rang, and Antonia said
“That’ll be Giles”

“I ord. I’d forgotten he was coming'” said Kenneth
Violet reached instuietively tor her vanitj case, but before
she had time to do more than peep at her reflection in the
tiny minor, Murgatroyd had ushered in the visitor
“Here’s Mr Giles'” she announced grimly
Giles ( amngton paused on the thrtsliold, survey mg the
group m some amusement ou look Ukc an dlustration ot
lugh life and low lite,” he remarked ‘ Sun-bathing, ] ony^”
‘T ome inside, and pour v ourself out a drink,” saidKennetli
“ \nd don’t be shy ot telhng us the worst it’s all m the famih .
Am I the heir, ot am 1 not^ If I am, we’re gomg to buy a
refrigerator. There’s no ice in tlus luddy plaee ”

Giles paid not the shghcM attention to this, but smiled
down at Violet. “It’s useless to expect cither ot m* cousins to
introduce us My name is ( anington

“I know, they’re hopeless Mine is \, ilLams I’m Kenneth’s
tianc6e, you know.”

“I didn’t, but I congratulate him. Good-evening,
Mesuner ”

“Oh, how sweet of you'” Violet said, witl an arch look
up at hun.

“That’s only his n'ce Lton maimers,” said Antonia
reassuringly. “When’s the Inquest, Giles^”

"On Tuesday. You’ll have to attend ”

54 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

“Blast! Ate you going to be tbete?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll take you down.” Giles poured him-
self out some whisky, and splashed soda into it. “Arnold’s
cat has been found,” he said casually.

“Where?” asked Antonia.

“In a mews off the Cromwell Road.”

“Will that help the police at all, do you suppose?” inquired
Violet.

“I hardly think so. Nothing but Arnold’s suit-case and
hat and a hamper of provisions was found in it, I believe.”

“What, no blood?” said Kenneth lazily. “No gory knife?
I call that a sell for the police.”

“Haven’t they discovered any clue at all?” Rudolph
asked. “Surely there must be something to show who it
was? I mean, hnger-prints, or something?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you tliat,” replied Giles in his cool,
pleasant way. “The police haven’t taken me quite so far into
their confidence.”

“Did you sec anything more of that lamb-like Superin-
tendent?” said Antonia, clasping her hands round her
knees.

“\Ts, I gave liira a lift back to I'own.”

Kenneth sat up. “Look here, whose side are you on?”

Giles Carrington looked up quickly. Kenneth grinned.
“No, I didn’t mean that exactly, but you’ve got to act
for us.”

“That is what I’m trying to do,” answered Giles.

“Lots of snags in the way,” murmured Kenneth, lying
down again. “Tony’s pitchforked herself bang into the
middle of it, and I don’t think T can prove an alibi. All the
same,” he added, tilting his head back to watch the fluttering
of a moth against the skylight, “they’ll find it pretty hard to
fasten the murder on to me. For one thing, I haven’t got a
knife, and never had a knife; and for another, no one would

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

55

ever believe I could do a job as neatly as this one, without
leaving any trace behind. Also i haven’t had any very recent

quarrel with ” He jerked himself upright again. ''Damn!

What a fool 1 was! I wrote and asked him for some cash, and
he refused. I’ll lay any odds you like he’s kept my letter atid a
copy of his answer.”

“Oh, Kenneth, don’t talk such rubbish:” Violet begged.
“Of course they don’t think you did it!”

“They probably will, but they’ll lind it devilish hard to
prove,” said Kenneth. “What do you think, Giles?”

“If you like to c-all at my oiFice to-morrow' at twelve, I’iJ
tell y(ui,” replied Giles, iinisliing liis drink.

Violet got up, smootliing her sldrt. “Of course yon can’t
talk with Mr. Mesurier and me here,” she said. “Anyway, it’s
time I went home. I’ve got a long day to morrow. Kenneth,
promise me you’ll stop being silly, and tell Mr. (Jarriagton
everything. YAu know perfectly well you didn’t do it, and
anyone would think you liad, from tlic way you go on.”

“Yes, you all three ought to talk it over,” agreed Mesurier.
“("an I see you home. Miss Williams?”

Violet accepted this offer with one of her de:nure smiles,
and in spite of Kenneth’s loud and indignant protests, the
pair insisted on taking thcii leave. Murgatroyd came in to
clear aw'ay the glasses when they had gone, and interrupted
Kenneth, wlio was cursing his cou *n for breaking up the
party, by saydng: “'Hiat’s enough from you, Master Kenneth.
You listen to wliat Mr. Ciiles has to say, and keep a still
tongue in your head, ^nd if you want anything 1 11 be in the
kitchen.”

She went out, and tlicy heard Iier go into me Idtchen and
shut the door. Kenneth sat down . on the divan, and
leaned his elbows on his knees. “I’m sick of this murder
already,” he said. “They’ll never find out v/ho did it, so why
worry?”

jC DhATH IN THE STOCKS

Giles took out his pipe, and began to fill it. “Get this into
your head,” he said. “If the pohcc don’t discover any due
to the identity of the murderer your position’s going to be
serious.”

Kenneth looked up. “Why? I thought Tony was the chief
suspect.”

“What do you suppose is the first thing the police will look
for?” Giles said. “Motive. Tony’s motive is merely one of
revenge, or spite, or whatever you like to call it. Your
motive is a good deal stronger. You’re liard up, you tried to
get money out of Arnold, and by his death you inherit a large
fortune.”

“Yes, but 1 didn’t think of that for quite some time after
Tony had told me Arnold was dead. Did I, Tony?”

“1 doubt whether that would impress a jury,” said Giles.
“What were you doing last night?”

“I went to lofik Violet up.”

“At what time?”

“Not sure. Half-past cightish. Murgatroyd was out, and
Tony seemed to have waltzed off for the night, so 1 wandcied
out on my own.”

“Did you go to Miss Williams’ housc.^”

“Flat. Yes, but she was out. No one answered the bell, so I
drifted along to some cinema ot other. No, 1 don’t know
which one it was and I don’t know what the film was called,
because I went in after it had started, and it was so dull I slept
through most of it.”

“Well, what did you do when y ou left the cinema?”

“Went for a walk,” replied Kenneth.

“Where to?”

“Richmond.”

“Why on eartli did you do that?” said Giles, patient but
despairing.

“Why not?” retorted Kenneth. "It was a fine night, and

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 57

veiy •warm, and I’d had a nice nap in the cinema. It seemed an
obvious thing to do.”

“Did It!” said Giles.

“But he does go for walks at mght, Giles!” .\ntonia put m
anxiously. “'We both do, when it’s too hot to go to bed.”

Giles sighed. “When did you get home?”

“Oh, somewhere about tliice or four, I suppose. I didn’t
notice the time.”

“And you can’t thmk of anyone who saw you come in or
out of the anema, or on jour way to Richmond, and who
would lie able to rccognire you? Didn’t you meet a poUce-
nun?” j

“No, I don’t think so. One or two cars passed, but I don’t
remember meeting anyone.” s

“In fact, not one word of this story can j'ou prove,” said
Giles.

“No,” replied Kenneth blandly, “and not one word of it
can the police disprove.”

CHAPTCR VI

Giu s^s car drew up outbidc Arnold Vercker’s house in
Eaton Place just as Superintendent ilannasjdc ascended the
stone steps* I'hc Superintendent turned, and when he saw
C/jles get out of the car, smiled, and said: “Good-morning,
Mr, Carrington. ou’ic \cry punctual.”

“It saves tiouhic, don't vou tliink?” said Ciiles. “Have tou
rung?”

“Kot ;^ct,” icplicd Hannas}dc, pressing the electric
button.

Ihe door was opencvl almost inimcdiateh b) a ihin butler
who had a sout exprcvssion and looked as though he suffered
from djsptjisia. His ga;4t swept the Superintcndciit by, and
cauAC to rest on C.iJcs. He gave a slight Ixav, and opened the
door wider.

“ ’Aumiing, ^Ja)jot,” Giles said. “Superintendent Han-
nas}dc and i W’aiit to go dirc^ugb Mr. Vereker's papeis.”

‘Acs, sir?” Tlic butler e\ed Haiinas^de for one dis-
approving mil nte. “'J he librar\ is locked, as the Supt rin-
te ndent kit it s c stcrda>, I unelcrstand.”

It was plain thnl the butler had no opinion of policemen
who walked into wvll ordered houses, and locked rooms up
as they pleased.

“A bad business about Vereker,” Giles said, handing
him his hat and gloves.

“Extreme!) distasteful, sir.”

“T should like to have a woid with )ou, pJe'asc,” said
Hannas^de, taUng a key out of his pocket, and htting it into
the lock of a door on the right ol the front door.

“Certainly, sir,” said Taylor frigidly. “I regret having

5B

DKATH IN THE STOCKS

been out when you called yesterday, but Sunday is my Day.”

“Yes, I understand. Come in here, wiU you?, Mr. Car-
rington, will you take these?” He held out a collection of
keys on a ring, which Ciiles took, while the butler walked
over to the wmdow, and drew back the curtains.

'Jhe library had the same air of consaous opulence that
pervaded every room in Arnold Vereker's house. It had
expensive leather chairs, and expensive sets of calf- bound
volumes in oak bookshelves. 'I lierc was a very thick pile
carpet, and a very richly carved desk. I'.v'crything spoke
aloud the unguidcd taste of a lugh class firm of decorators;
nothing gave any indication of the ownci’s personality.

Ilannasydc waited until Taj lot had arranged the curtains to
his satisfaction, and then askeei: “How long have yrm been
m Mr. Vcrckcr’s employment?”

“I have been here for three jears, sir,” icpbed Taylor, m a
voice tlut informed the Supeiintcndcnt thal tJiat was a
record.

“Then you are probably aetpainted witli Mr. Vercker’s
habits. Was it lus custom to spend the week-ends at hi-,
country cottage?”

“He occasionally did so, sir.”

“And when he did was it usual for lum to drive himstll
down, or did he take his cluuffeut^”

“Sometimes the one and sometimes tlie other, sir.”

“Upon Saturday, when he left luwm, was the chauffeur with
him?”

“I believe not, sir. Ihetc had been a little unpleasantness.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Between Mr. Vtreker and Jackson, tht chauffeur, sir
Mr. Vereker gave Jackson his notice on Saturday mormng,
Jackson Iiaving brought the car round five minutes late
again. There was a highly unpleasant scene upon the front-
steps. I regret to say that Jackson so far forgot himself as to

6o

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

answer Mr, Vereker back. It was quite a brawl, not what one
would expect in a gentlemanS house at all. Jackson talked
cxtremcl} wildly, Mr. Vereker hardly less so. Both being hot-
tempered, if J may say so.”

“And when Vereker left the house on Saturday
evening, Jackson was not driving the car?”

‘‘Ko, sir. It was merely brought round to the door — Mr.
Vereker ha\jng stated tliat he did not wish to see Jackson’s
face again.”

see. At what hour did ' Ir. Vereker leave this house?”

“He left at ten minutes to e«ght, sir.”

“\ou seem sure of tlial. What fixed the time in \our
memory?”

“All. Vcickcr lumsclf, sir. lie remarked on jt. i under-
stood him to ha\e a dinner engagement. He w is iiot — ahem
— pleased at being detained.”

“Wha^ detained him*^”

Ihd butkr drew in his breath, for tins was the moment for
which he had liecn waiting. “ \ visitor, sir.”

“'>Xho was this \isltor?”

“I could not sav, sir. He was not a person I had e\cr seen
before. In fact, I should not dcsctibe him as the Upe (^f
gentleman 1 have been in the habit of admitting to the house.
Very down at-hecl, he 'was, and most determined to see \Jr.
Vereker. Upon my informing him that Mr. Verel.cr was
not at home, he set his foot m the door, and replied that he
should not leave until he had seen him.”

“Do you mean that liis attitude was threatening?”

Ihe butler considered. “Hardly that, sir. Oli no, not
threatening! Very affable, he was, in a silly kmd of wav.
Stood there smiling. 1 formed the impression that he w^ts
under the influence of drink. J was about to summc>n
Matthew — the footman, sir- -to assist in putting liim outside
when Mr. Vereker came down the stairs ready to go out.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 6l

“In e\ ening-drcss^”

"Precisely, sir. Mr. Vereker called out to know what was
the matter. Ihe stranger kept on smiling, m what I could
only think a very peculiar uay, under the circumstances, and
after a moment he said, amiable as you please ou’d better
be at home to me, old fellow.* 'I hose were his exact words,
and the effect of them upon Mr. Vereker was remarkable.
Mr. Vereker was a gentleman with a high complexion, but he
turned quite paL, and stood there with his hand on the
hamster, staring ’’

“Did he seem to be .ifraid''”

“I should not hkc to saj that, sir He looked to me to be
verv angry and amazed.”

“Do you remember what he said'”

“He ^d not speak at all, sir, until the stranger said that it
would save a lot oi unpleasantness it he lad a tew words with
limt alone Then he gave a kind of choke, md told me to let
the man in I did so, o* touise, and i^r Verekei Ld the way
into this loom, and shut the door ’’

“J low long were thev both hcre^”

“1 ntil ^lr Vereker left the house, sir, wiuch he did in
companv w itl i his v isitor It might ha\ e been tw entv minutes,
or halt an houi ”

“Have }ou an\ idea what took plan between then? \kas
tiiere anv quarreP”

“[ should not call it a quarrel, sir I never heird the
stranger’s voice raised onre, though 1 could not help but heat
Vi Vereker shouting occasionalh ^^t is m) bchet that it was
money the man wanted, tor Mr Vereker said, hVot one peony
do jou get out of me” several times ”

“Did you hear him sav an> thing eKe-*”

“Not a great deal, str. Ibe term scoundrel was frequentlv
made use of, and Mr. Vereker said once, very loudly: ‘So you
think you can frighten me, do jou?’ But what the other man

6z deat'h in the stocks

replied I don’t know, him speaking all the time in a soft voice.
After a little while Mr. Yereker seemed to calm dhwn, and I
was tinable to catch what was said. But at ten minutes to
eight they both came out of the library, and by the way Mr.
Veteker damned me for being in the hall to open the door for
him I judged that somethmg had happened to put him in a
bad temper. The other man was as amiable as ever, and
seemed to be laughing up his sleeve, to my way of thinking.
He said Mr. Yereker could give hmi a lift, and Mr. Yereker
threw him a look which quite startled me, accustomed as I
was to his moods. I could see he hated the man, and it is my
behef that he had a deal of trouble forcing himself to agree
to take him in the cat with him. But whatever the reason he
did actually do so, the stranger making himself very much at
home, and Mr. Yereker with his mouth shut hke a trap. That,
sir, is the last 1 ever saw of Mr. Yereker.”

The Superintendent had listened to this stoi^ with an
unmoved countenance. “W ould you know the man if you
were to see him again?”

“1 thmk so, sit. I should, 1 believe, recognize both his
smile, and bis voice. His person was not, however, in any
way remarkable.”

“Ycry well. You do not know of anyone else who may
have visited Mr. Yereker on Saturday?”

‘'Mr. Yereker was at his office until lunch-time, sir, and no
one called at this house during the afternoon. He went out at
four o’clock, and did not return until shortly before seven.
Miss Yereker rang up at about six, but my orders bemg to
inform anyone who wanted him that he had gone out of
town, I did so.”

“Do you know why Mr. Yereker gave that order?”

“It was not unusual, sir. He had been out of temper all
day, and when that occurred he never wanted to see or speak
to anyone, least of all a — a member of his family.”

DEATHINTHESfOrCKS 6}

“I see. One other question: do you know what Mr.
Vereket’s plans were for Saturday evening^”

“Oh no, sirl Mr. Vereker was never communicative. I
inferred from his attire that he was dining m town before
motormg into the country, but where or in what company I
fear 1 have no idea.”

“1 hank you. I won’t keep you any longer, then.”

The butler bowed, and looked towards Giles “I beg your
pardon, sir, but in the £»cc of tlus unexpected occurrence
there is a feeling amongst the staff that evervthmg is very
unsettled. 1 do not know whether the staff is to be kept
on ?”

“That will be for the heir to deadt,” answered Cnles
pleasantly. “Meanwhile, just tarty on as you are.”

“If you say so, sir,” said laylor, and withdrew

Ilannasyde waited until he had gone before saymg
“\Xhaf did you make of that, Mr. ( arrmgton^”

“Not vet> much,” shrugged Gilts. “J daresay it might
be a good thing if you could run the seeds stranger to earth,
but It sounds to me as though tt m ere a somewhat ineicpert
blackmailer at work. \\^ou]d you like the safe opened
first?”

“les, please. And a tertam amount of animus displayed
agamst the chauffeur. Or merely protective measures?”

“Probably a bit of both,” said (nks, opemng a very
obvious door m the panelhng beside the fireplace, and dis-
closing a steel safe. “Servants ate always anxious to protect
themselves against any possible accusation — even,” he added
bitterly, “when it’s only one of watermg the vlusky. Here
you are.”

The Superintendent moved acioss the ri>om to his side, and
together they went through the conteiiLs of the safe. There
was nothing in it relevant to the case, only share-certificates, a
bank-book, and some private papers. Giles put them back.

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

64

when the Superintendent had finished with them, and shut the
safe again.

“We’ll try the desk,” he said, going over to it, and sittmg
down in the swivel-chair.

“Did you bring the ^lU?” asked Hannasyde.

Giles drew it from his inner pocket, and handed it over
The Superintendent sat down on the other side of the desk,
and spread open the crackling sheets, while Giles sought
amongst the keys on the rmg for one which fitted the drawers
of the desk.

'The Supermtendent read the Will, and at the end LuJ it
carefully down, and said in his measured voice: “I sec that
the residuary legatees are Kenntth and .Vntoma Vereker, who
share equally all that is k ft of \rof>ld Vercker’s fortune when
the minor legacies have been paid.”

"’ics,” agreed Giles, glancing through a paper he had
taken from one of the drawet s. “'I hat is so ”

“Both of them, then, benent very considciably b} Arnold
Veteker’s death.”

“I can’t tell )ou offhand, how much Arnold’s piivatc
fortune amounted to. bomewhere in the neighbourhood of
sixty thousand pounds ”

The Superintendent looked at him. “What about his
holdmg in the mint

“That,” said Ciiles, lavmg a sheaf of papers on one of the
heaps he had made on the desk, “m default of male issue by
Arnold, goes to Kenneth, under the tetms of his father’s W’lll.
I thought )ou’d want to set that, so 1 brought a copy.”

“Thanks,” said Hannasyde, stretching out his hand for it.
“I really am grateful. You’re saving me a lot of time, Mr.
Carrington.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Oiles.

The Superintendent read Geoffrey Vercker’s Will, knittmg
his brows over It.

DEATHINTHK STOCKS 65

^‘Tliis is a most extraordixxary document/^ he rematked.
“All that seems to be left to his other children is his private
fortune — and even that is divided berw^een the four of them.
What's the meaning of it, Mr. Carrington?'’

“Tt isn’t quite as extraordinarj^ as it appears,” replied Giles.
“7 he Shall Hills j\ljne was an obsession with my uncle. In
hjs day it wasn’t the huge concern it is now. My uncie
believed m it, and made a private company to work it. It was
to be developed, and it was on no account to pass out of the
family. So he left his holding to Arnold, with a reversion to
Arnold’s eldest son, if any; and failing a son, to Roger and his
heirs; or, in the event of Roger’s death without legitimate
3313 le issue, to KennetJi. Ihc private fortune amounted to
thirty-tlirce thousand pounds, and W'as at that time the- more
substantial bequest. It was divided equally between the four
children. But a few years after m\ uncle’s death, liis belief in
the potentialities of Shan Hills was ]ustr'cd h) the discovery,
c»n one of the leases, of a vert uch deposit— a limestone
replacement deposit, if you’re interested in teclmicahtics.
\rnold floated the mine as a public company —and you know
pretty well how 11 stands to-day. Arnold's holding pit^bably
represents about a quarter of a million.”

“y\ very nice little packet to inherit,'’ commented Han-
nasyde dr\l}.

“Very nice," agreed Cjilcs.

ITierc was a short pause. “Well, vc’d better- go through
the desk,” said IJannasydc. “Have aou found anything that
might have a bearing on the case?”

“Nothing at all,” said Ciiles. lie handed a diary across.
“I hoped this might reveal liis Saturday night engagement,
but he’s merely crossed off Saturday r I Sunday. I haven’t
come across his cheque-book yet, by tlie way. Was it on
him?”

“Yes, T’vc got it,” flannasyde said, producing it. *1 see

66 DEJVTHINTHESTOCKS

be drew a cheque fot a hundred pounds to self on Fri<&y.
At fust glance lather a large sum to carry about with him,
but he seems to have been in the habit of doing it.”

“He was. He got rather a kick out of a fat wad m his
pocket, I think.”

“Lots do. What surprised me a little, though, was to find
that he only had diirty pounds and some loose change on him
when his body was discovered. Seventy pounds seems to be
a lot to have spent in a couple ot da\ s, unless he paid some
bills, of course.”

Giles glanced through a pile of receipts. “Nothmg here fot
that date. Might have bought a trmket for his latest fancy.”

“Or the butler’s mjstetious stianger nught have relieved
him of It,” .said Hannasyde thoughtfully. “I should like to
meet this smiling stranger.” He picked up a small letter-file,
and began mcthodic.illy to go through its contents. Most of
the letters he merely glanced at, and put aside, but one held
his attention for some moments. “H’m' I suppose you’ve
seen tlus>”

Chles looked up. “Wlutisit? Oh, thatl es, I’ve seen it.
There’s some more of that correspondence —oh, you’ve got

It!”

The Superintendent was holding a baldly worded request
for fite hundred pounds, written m Kennetli’s nervous
fist. 'The letter stated with exquisite simphaty that h-enneth
was broke, engaged to be married, and must have funds to
pay off a few debts. Appended to it was a typewritten sheet,
headed ( opy, stating with equal simpliaty ^t Arnold had
no intention of givmg or lending a feckless idiot five hundred
pence, let alone poimds. Further search in the file brought
to hght a second letter from Kenneth, scrawled on a half-
sheet of notepaper. It was laconic in the extreme, and
expressed an ardent desire on the writer’s part to vmng his
brother’s bloody neck.

DEAtHINTHESTOCKS 67

“Very spirited,*' said the Superintendent non-committally
“I should like to keep these letters, please.”

‘‘Do, by all means,” said Giles. “Particularly the last
one.”

“Kenneth Vercker is, I take it, a client of yours?”

“He is.”

“Vvell, Mr. Carrington, we won't hedge. You’re no fool,
and you can see as clearly as [ do that lus movements on
Saturday night will have to be accounted for. B ut i 'm no fool
either, and we shall get along a good deal better it 1 tell you
here and now that these letters don’t make me want to go
after a warrant for tliis young man’s arrest at once. A imon
who makes up his mind to kill someone isn’t very hkely to
write and tell his victim that he’d like to do it.”

Privately Giles placed no such ctmfidence in lus cousin’s
levelheadedness, but he only nodded, and said; ‘‘Just
so.”

The Superintendent folded the three letters and tucked
them into lus pocket book. Ills eyes twmklcd a little.
“But if he’s anything like his sister— well, that alters things,”
he said. ‘‘Now let’s take a look at this memorandum.”

Ho picked it up as he spoke and opened it. Giles began to
icplace the papers in the drawers. “Hullo!” said Hannasyde
suddenly. “V^ hat do you make of this, Mr. Cairington?”

Giles took the book, and found it open at a page of
figures. In tlic iirst column were pencilled varu^us dates;
against these were set names, apparently of different firms, in
the third column were certam sums of money, each widi a
note of interrogation beside it, and a countcr-sum, heavily
underlined. 7\t the bottom, each line of figures had been
totalled, and the difference, wliich am lUntcd to three hundred
and fifty pounds, not only underlined, but wholly encircled
by a thick black pencil-mark.

“John Dawlish Ltd.,” said Giles slowly, reading one of the

68

DFAIH IN TUh STOCKS

names aloud “Aren’t those the people who make drills^
These look to me hkc C ompany accounts ”

“1 hey look to me as though someone has been monkeying
with the accounts, and Arnold Veieker found it out,” said
Hannasvdc ‘T think we’ll step round to the Shan Hills
oflice, if )ou don’t mind, Mr ( anmgton ”

“Not at all,” replied Giles, ‘ but I don’t quite see why ) ou
should want me to — ’

He was interrupted b} the butlu, who at that moment
opened the door, ind stood holding it “1 beg )our pardon,
sir, but Mr ( aiiington would like to speak to jou on tl e
tJephont,” said Tailor

CtiIcs looked up, surpjjsed " r Carrington wants to
speak to mc'^”

“\cs, sir Shall I switch the call through to tins room, c r
would >ou prefer t(' speak {rum the halJ^”

‘ No, switch J"- thiough, will )oa^” Coles lifted tlie recenu
of the desk tek phoi t, and glmccd towards Hannas’ydc ‘ I "o
'SOU mind-" - lt’> im fat! er, ough what he wants, 1 cant
imagine t>e wa\, it is he who is the legal adviser to
Arnold’s Compam -.'mold transferred his priv^ate affairs to
me, partly because we were more ot an age, and paith
because he and my father couldn’t hit it off, but the busiiitss

rcmamcdin Hullo, sir ’\iornmg h cs, Giles speaking ”

Ihe Superintendent opened his note book, and begri
laclfullv to read ihrouglr the entries } le could licar a stat cato
ejuacking noise, which he rightly inferred to be the Aoice ci
Mr ( amngton. Senior It sounded irascible, he thought
Giles’s side of the comcrsalion was mild and soothing
He said ‘ So sorry, sir. Hudn’t I tell you I should come
straight to I atoa Placed . . well, never mind v hat’s
happened*'* . . . sometlung to do with The lazy look

faded, he listened intently to the quacking noise, which went
on for quite some time Then he said: ‘All right, sir. I’ll

0 EATHINTHESTOCKS 69

bung him round as soon as we’ve fnished here.” The voice
quacked again, and the Superintendent was almost certain
that he heard the words “flat-footed policemen.” However,
Giles merely said: “In about twenty minutes, then. Good-
bye,” and laid down the receiver. He raised his eyes to the
Superintendent’s face, and said: “My father wants to see you.
Superintendent. He tells me he found a letter from Arnold
Vereker v.'aiting for him at the oflice this morning, which ne
thinks you ought to see.”

CHAPTER Vn

Tin. offices of Carrington, Radclyffe & Carrington were on
tlie first floor of a house at the bot^xim of Adam Street, facing
down the length of Adclphi lerrace. The head of the firm
occupied a large, untidy room overlooking the ri\cf through
a gap in the adjacent buildmgs. When Ciiles ushered Han-
nasyde into this apartment on Monday morning, the head of
the firm was seated at an enormous desk, completely covered
with papeis, muttering fiercely at the shortcomings of his
fountain pen. The head of the firm was a well-preserved
sixty, with grizzled and scanty hair, a ruddy complexion, and
the same humorous gleam which lurked in hts son’s grey
c\es. In other respects father and son were not much alike.
CjiIcs was tall and lean, and never seemed to be 4n a hurry;
Charles Carrington was short, and of a comfortable habit of
body, and hved in a perpetual state of bustle. It was a source
of surprise to those uot intimately acquainted with him that
he should be a lawj er. Those who knew him best were not
dismayed by his odd mannerisms, or his mabihty to find
anything. 'Jhey knew that although he aught convey the
impression of being a fussy and rather incompetent old
gentleman, he had still, at sixty, a remarkably acute intellect.

He looked up when the door opened, and, as soon as he
saw his son, held up an ink-stained hand, and barked: ‘‘You
see! What did 1 tell you? They always leak. What on earth
should put it into your mother’s head to give me one of the
infernal things, when she knows perfectly well I never could
stand them, and never shall J.ook at this! Take the con-

founded thing away! Throw it out of the window! — Give it
to the office boy! And you needn’t tell your mother I’m not
using it!”

70

DEATHINTHESTOCKS Jl

“All fight, I won’t,” said Giles, removing the pen. “This
is Superintendent Hannasyde from Scotland Yard.”

“Oh, is It?” said Mr. Carrington, wiping his lingers with a
piece, of pink blottmg-papcr. “Good-morning. Investigating
my nephew’s murder, aren’t you? Well, I wish you joy of it.
Ill-conditioned young cub' Don't stand! Don’t stand! Take
a chair! Giles, push those deeds on to the Hoot, and let the
Supermtendent sit down.”

He began to hunt amongst the dusty heap c»f documents on
hts desk, remarking that in this oHtce you had only to lay a
thing down for a minute foi it to disappear completely. The
Supermtendent, survepng the general disorder with an awed
gaze, made a sympathetic murmur, and wondered whether
there was the least hope of discovering Arnold Vereker’s letter
m die welter on the desk.

But Mr. t arrington, ha\ing thrown one bundle of papers
at his son, vith the Delphic utterances: “Section of the
Act; tiicy’d better settle it out of court,” and dropped two
used envelopes vaguely in the direction of the waste paper
basket, pounced upon a sheet of closely wntttn notepaper,
and scow'led at it, rubbing die tip of liis nose with liis lorc-
Imgcr. “This is it,” he announced. “\ou’d better have it.
Superintendent. May mean nothing; nuy mean a lot. Here,
Giles, y ou take a look at n! W liat did the fellow thmk 1 could
tell him that he didn't know already? Arnold all over'
Wasting my time with ids rubbishy questions! But I don’t
like to hear diis about Tony: what’s the wretched cliild about
to get herself entangled with this voung v aster? Read it!”

By this time Gi les w’as doing so. W hen he came to the end,
he held it out to Hannasidc, sating: “[ ih.nk this comes
rather pat, don’t you?”

The letter was on office paper, but v iiiten by liand, and by^
a man in a raging temper. *'Drar Uficle” it began, and
continued abruptly: “W’hai is the legal position oj this firm in the

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

72

case of ystematic tampering mtb the accounts on the part of an
employee^ I’ve caught this damned whipper-snapper Mesurier out,
and I want to prosecute, but wish to know how I stand before taking
definite action. I have had him up, and he has the insolence to expect
me to condone it because, if you please, be is paying back what he calls
the 'loan' in hts own good time! Does this prejudice my case, or noli
Major portion of the sum stolen is still owing. Surely I have a casJ
Don’t reply with any sentimental dtivel; the skunk has got himself
engaged to that damned little fool, Antonia, and I uant him exposed.
Kindly give this matter your immediate atHhtion, and advise.”

The Superintendent read this through with his usual
dchberation. “Yes, it does come pat,” he said. “You're
quite right. A bit hard on this chap Mesurier, wasn’t he?”

Mr. Carrington, who was once more hunting through the
litter on his desk, temporarily abandoned this new search, and
stsTing lus cliair round so that he faced Hannasyde. “Hard?
Infernally vindictive, sir, that’s what m;j nephew Arnold is —
was!” He paused, and added vith a growl: "Di mortun nil
nisi honum” as a sort of general absolution, “hut I never m
my life met a fellow with a worse temper, or -worse manners,
or a worse heart, or a more obstinate, pig-headed ”

“He wasn’t as bad as all that, sir,’’ objected Giles.

“Don’t mteirupt,” said Mr. (Barrington sternly. He
transferred his attention to Hannasyde. “You can keep that
letter. You lt)ok a sensible man, as far as I can judge. I’ve no
desire to get this Mesurier fellow into trouble, but I’ve still
less desire to sec you "i’ard men barking up what 1 trust is the
wrong tree. I’m not acting for that benighted young nephew
of mine — though why 1 call him my nephew I don’t know: he
isn’t — and thank C>od for it’ but from what I know of
him ’^es, what is It?”

A clerk had tapped at the door, and entered. He said in a
low voice: “For Mr. Giles, sir.”

“Well?” said Giles, turning his head. “Anything urgent?’’

DtATH IN IIIl STOCKS

73

‘^Mr. Kenneth Vercker has called, sit, and would be glad if
you could spare him a few minutes. He says it is very
urgent.’"

‘‘ i'cll liim Tm engaged at the moment, but if he cares to
wait. I’ll see him later.”

llannasj.’^de craned forwaid. ‘*I wonder if you would mind
if 1 saw w"r. }>.enneth Vercker?’ he asked.

Chics and Ins father’s tyes met for an instant (harlcs
( af’ noton said brielly: “"Idl A’r. Vcrckcr that Mipcnnten-
dtnt Haiin .s\de is here and W()uld like to sec him.”

"‘Yes, sir.” Ihc clerk went out.

Two niinuics L‘tcr Kenneth walked in, dressed in dis-
icputable grt) flannel trousers, a shut with a soft collar and a
ilowmg tie, and an old tw’ccd coat. A plume of dark k.iir fell
over one cyel'>row and the c^es themselves were bright, and
nquisitne, and alert. “Hullo, TneJ' ’ Hullo, Cnles ” he said
airih. “V here’s the lamblike policeman? CiOod Lord, L
don’t sec anything lamb like 'diout \()u. Vnothcr of Tony’s
]ie«>' i’^c come to the conclusion L’d better lescrve my
defence, b^ the way. it nthe \u}soJ/Ih ll ;/i/\Cbtcrda\,
*md It seemed to me a good idea.”

“1 wish,” said Mr. ( arrin^tem testiH, “that \ou would
rcfiain fiom walking into nn oh cc looking like a third-rate
aitist from ( hclsea’”

“\\ h)?” asked Kennah, mteiested

“Because I don’t like it replied '’r. i arrinotor, floored.
“And nor do T like that eifennnate lie!”

“If it comes to that 1 don’t like \ours,” said Kenneth, “I
think it’s a ghastly tie, I'Ut T shouKln’t have said so it jou
hadn’t started on mine, because i believe in t»u Rights of the
Individual. But as a matter of fact it ’ a obout my clothes that
I'm here, more or less.” He turned to Hannasyde and said
affably: “You don’t mind if I get my business done first, do
you?”

74

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

“Not at all,” answered Hannasyde, on whom, for all his
apparently disinterested attitude, not one gesture or inflexion
of the voice had been lost. “If you would like to speak to Mr.
Carrington alone, I can wait outside.”

“Oh lord, no! It isn’t private!” Kenneth assured him.
“It’s only about Arnold’s money, I am the heir, aren’t I,
Giles? Damn it, I must be! He can’t have upset Father’s Will.
Well, can I have some of it advanced to me? I must have
some new shirts, for one thing, and I can’t get ’em on
tick since Arnold said he wouldn’t be responsible for my
‘debts, blast him! Also, Maxton’s have sent me a stinker to
say if I don’t settle their account they will have to take
steps. .iVnd if taking steps means jug, I can’t possibly be
jugged for at least another fortnight, because I’m working
on a picture. So do you mind coughing up some of the
needful?”

It was quite impossible to stem this tide of disastrous
eloquence. After one quick, warning frown, Giles abandoned
the attempt, and heard his client out in silence. Mr. Charles
Carrington, his clbov^^s on the arms of his chair, and his finger-
tips lightly touching, sat watching the Superintendent, quite
unperturbed. When his nephew paused for breath, he turned
his head, and said with sometliing of his son’s mildness:
“How much do you want, Kenneth?”

“I want five himdred pounds,” replied Kenneth promptly.
“Three lumdred is absolutely urgent, and if it won’t run to
five, I could make three do. But I want a hundred to buy a
ring with, and another hundred for splurging about. I can
buy a ring for a hundred, can’t I, Giles?”

“Several, I should think,” replied Giles.

“Must be diamonds,” explained Kenneth. “Large,
flashy ones. You know: the kind of dung which makes
you want to vomit. It’s for Violet. I haven’t given her
one yet, and that’s the deluded wendi’s taste. I wouldn’t

DEATHINTHESTOCKS 75

put it above her to hanker after a ruby tiara once I touch
Arnold’s millions, bless her vulgar little heartP"

Cjiles intervened, “ WeMl talk it over later. 1 can lend you
some money to tide you over. Is that all you came about?’’

‘"That’s enough, isn’t it?” said Kennctli. “Aiurgatroyd’s
got it into her head that bailiffs will storm the place at any
moment. I can’t see what on earth it matters as long as they
don’t get in our way, but she won’t listen to reason, and, as a
matter of fact, I daresay ihc) would be a bit of a nuisance.
Because we’ve only got one sitting-room, you know.”

“All right. I’ll come tJong this evening and arrange some-
thing,” promised Gilts. “Meanwhile Superintendent Han
nasyde wants to ask you some questions.”

“1 just want to know what )our movements on
Saturday evening,” said Hannasyde pleasantly.

‘ T know you do, but according to Colts you on’l believe a
word of ni} story,” replied Kenneth. “Nly point is that you
can’t disprove it. If you’ve got any sense you won’t tt).
"i'ou’ll simply arrest my sister, and be done with it. I call her
behaviour iishy in llic extreme. Moreover, an) girl who gels
engaged to a human ven like Mesuricr deserves to be hanged.
V^hat did 50U make of him. Coles?”

“I hardly know him, 'I i} to slick to the point.”

“W^cll, I think he’s a blister,’' said Kenneth frankly,

Hannasyde said patiently: '‘May T hear this stor^ which (
can’t disprove?”

“Sorry, I’d forgotten you for the moment,” said Kenneth,
and seating himself on a corner of the desk which happened
to be free from litter, related with unexpected conciseness the
history of his m<jvemcnts on Saturday. “And that’s that,” he
concluded, delving in his pocket fer an evil-looking meer-
schaum. “JMy tianctc says it’s sudi a rotten story you’re
bound to believe it. She ought to know. She reads about seven
detective thrillers a week, so she’s pretty well up in crime.”

j6 DEATHINTHESTOCKS

Hannasyde looked at him rather searchingly, ‘‘You don’t
remember the picture theatre you visited, or even what
street it is in, or what the film was about, Alt. Vereker?”

“No,” said Kenneth, unrolling an oilskin tobacco pouch,
and beginning, under bis uncle's fermenting stare, to fill the
meerschaum.

“ that argues a singularly bad memory, doesn’t it?”

“Vile,” agreed Kenneth. “i>ut anyone’ll tell you I’ve no
memory.’'

“I’m surprised that vith such a bad memory you a-^e able
to tell me so CKactl} what did that e\cning,” said Han-
nas} dc gently.

“( >h, J learned th it off by heart!” replied Kcnnctli, putting
h‘s pipe in his moutli, and itstoritig the pouch to his pocket.

Supciintcndent Hannasyde v as not a man to show surpiisc
leadily, but this moenuous explanation bereft lun^ momen-
tarily of speech. ( jilcs’s slow wicc filled tlie gap- '‘Oon’t tr}
to be funny, I imjfiore ^ ou. ^ bat do } ou mean.''”

1 harles Orringlon, whose attention bad been successfullv
switched from tin meerscliauri, watched Kenneth wnth an air
of impersonal interest. cs, wLat do jou mean?” he
inftjuircd.

“just w^lul ^ sai<l,” icsponJed A enneth, striking a mat cl..
Between puffs, he continued: “ Htcc CjjIcs had gone, last
night, It dawned on me that Pd better make sure 1 didn't
forget what I did on v^ataida^ . So I wrote it all down, and
learned it by heart in case 1 lost the book of tlie words.”

The Superintendent, recovering, pat rather a stern question:
“Do you remember anything at all of what you did, Mr.
Vert leer, or arc you memly favouring me with a recitation?”

“Of course I remember,'’ said Kenneth impatiently. “You
can’t go on repeating a saga without remembering it If vou
mean. Did I make it up? certainly not! I should have thought
out a much better story than that. Something really classy.

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

77

As a matter of fact, my sister and I concocted a beauty, but -w c
deaded against using it, because of the mental stram. If you
make a thing up you keep forgetting some of the ramifications,
and then you’re m the soup.”

“I’m glad you rcah7c that,” said Hannasyde drjlj. ‘■\inil
} our memory go back as far as the third of ) une-*”

“What’s to-day?” asked Kenneth, wilhng to oblige, but
cautious.

“To-day, Mr. Vereker, is the nmtteenth ot June.’

‘ fhen 1 shouldn’t thmk it would. It all depends. Not it
5 ou’re gomg to ask me what I had for breakfast that da), ot
whether I went out for a walk, or — ”

“1 am going to ask you whether )ou remember wntmg a
letter to )our half biother, requesting him to give or to lend
^ ou five bundled pounds"”

‘Did 1 wiite that on the third"”

“\ou remember writing the lettei, even though )ou ma
not remember the date"”

“"i ou bet J do,” said Keiuielh. “I’ve been kicking myselt
for havmg done it ever since 1 heard about the murder. Didn’t
1 tell you the sumc w ould keep im letici, Chiles?”

“Do you also lemeinber a second letter which you wrote
tour half-brother- piesumably upon receipt of his refusal to
send you any money

Kenneth frowned “No, I’m afraid I don’t Did I write a
second timc^”

Ihe Superintendent opened lus pocket book and took out
a single sheet of notepapet. “Isn’t that it, ? It. Vereker^”

Kcimeth leaned forward to read it, and burst out laaglunc
‘‘Oh lord, yes' Sony' I’d forgotten that for the moment.”

“You were angry enough to write a letter leUing your half
brother that it would give sou great pleasure to wring hit
neck ”

“Bloody neck,” corrected Kenneth

7* DEATH IN THE 'STOCKS

“Yes, his bloody neck is die teim you used. You felt
that sttongly enough to write it, and then fotgot all
about it?”

“No, I fotgot I’d written it,” said Kenneth. “I didn’t
forget that I wanted to wring his neck. My memory’s not as
bad as that.”

“1 see. Am I to understand that this violent desire per-
sisted?”

Giles made a slight movement as of protest, but Kenneth
spoke before he could be stopped. “More or less. Whenever
I happened to think about him. But it was only a beautiful
dream. I couldn’t have pulled it off. Arnold was too beefy
for me to tackle smgle-handed.”

There was an intimtesimal pause. Then the Superintendent
said: “Isee. I think you said you are engaged to be married?”
Kenneth nodded: “Have you been engaged long, Mr.
Vereker?”

“Three months, more or less.”

“When do you mean to be married, if I may ask?”

“I thmk you mayn’t, Supcrmtendtnt,” said Giles, shifting
his shoulders against the mantelpiece.

“You must advise your chent as you see bt, Mr. Garrmgton,
but It is a question that will be asked,” Hannasy de said.

“Let him ask me anytliing he hkes,” said Kenneth. “I
don’t mind. 1 haven’t got any feeling against the pohee. 1
don’t know when I’m going to be married. My betrothed has
rehgious scruples.”

“Has what?” asked Hannasyde, startled.

Kenneth waved his pipe vaguely in the air. “Religious
scruples. Respect due to the dead. All against the funeral
baked-meats coldly furnishing forth the marriage tables.
Romeo atid Jubet” he added.

“Hamlety’ said the Superintendent coldly.

“Shakespeare, anyway.”

DEATH IM THE STOCKS jrj

“Do you mean that your fiancee 'wishes to postpone die
'wedding until you’re out of mourning?”

“She can’t. She knows perfectly well I’m not going into
mourning.”

“Mr. Vereker, had you arranged a date for your wedding
before Saturday, or not?”

“Not.”

“I’m going to ask you a very straightforward question,
whirh yotir solicitor won’t like,” said Hannasyde, with a
faint smile. “Was the wedding-day unsettled because of
money troubles?”

“You needn’t bother about my solicitor,” said Kenneth
amiably. “When a thing stands out a mile, ■you don’t catch
me queering my pitch by denymg it. Money it was. 'Die
lady's not in favour of a two-pair back. By the way, that was
something 1 w^anted to ask you, Giles. \\'hat is a two-pair
back?”

“T don’t know,” said (dies.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter,” said Kenneth, banishing
the question. “Now Arnold’s dead the point doesn’t arise.”

“No,” agreed Giles, of intent. “Whatever a fv\'o-pair back
may be it isn’t anything like the I aton Place house.”

Kenneth took his pipe out of his mouth. “J et’s get this
straightl” he requested. “Notlung would make me hve in
that high-class mansion, or any other remotely resembling it!
That’s final, and you may tell Violet so w’lth my loving
compliments.”

“All right. Where do you propose to h\e?”

“Where I’m living now. If Violet wants ropes of pearls,
and a brocade bed, and a Rolls-Royce, she can have ’em, but
there it ends. I utterly refuse to silter my habits.” He stood
up, and pushed the lock of hair back fi« ii his forehead. “You
can also tell her,” he said, his eyes very bright all at once,
“that these hands” — ^he flung them out, the fingers spread

8o DEAIHINTHESTOCKS

wide — “arc worth more than all Arnold’s hlthy money, and
when he’s been forgotten for centuries people will still be
talking about me.”

Charles Carrington bhnked, and looked to see how
Hannasyde received this sudden outburst. Hannasyde was
watchmg Kenneth. lie said nothmg. Kenneth’s brilhant,
challenging gaze came to rest on his impassive face. “That’s
what you don’t 'let grasp'” he said. “I might have killed
Arnold because [ loathed him, and his money-grubbing mind,
and his vulgar tastes, but not for his tuo hundred and fifty
thousand pounds ”

“Don’t j^ou want his two hundred and fifty thousand
pounds?” asked Hannasvdc conversationally.

“Don’l ask me dam’ silh questions,” ‘napped Kenneth.
“01 course 1 do' VC ho wouldn’t-'”

Hannasyde got up “Ko one of my acquaintance,” he
answered. “l’\ c no mote questions to ask 5 ou at tkc moment,
dam’ silly or otherwise.”

“Ciood,” said Kenneth “Then I’ll depart. Don’t forget
to come round to nignt, ( files, ^nd mind the wolf' Accord-
ing to Muigatroyd it’s at the door. (lood bse, I’ucle. Ciivc
my love to Aunt Janet ”

“I must be going too,” said Ilannasydt, as the door shut
behind Kenneth, “i mar act as 1 think tit with regard to th<s
letter, Mr ( airmgion^”

Charles (^ariington nodded. “Use your discretion,
Superintendent. I expett rou’ve got a lot, hey?”

llannasyde smiled. “I hope so,” he said. lie turned to
Giles. “I shall see you to moriow at the Inquest, shan’t I?”

Giles held out his hand. “V cs, I shall be there.”

Hannasyde gripped the hand for a moment, a certam
friendly warmth m his eyes. “I’ll let you know if anything
interesting transpires.”

He went out, and (.harks ('arrington pushed back his chair

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 8l

fiom the desk. “ vVell, udl, well ” he said. “Sheer waste of
my time, of couise, but not unamusing.”

“I’ve half a mind to ask Kenneth to look for another
soliator,” said Cnles rucfulh

Ills father sat up, and resunred his search amongst the
papers on his desk. “Nonsense ” he said bnsklv “ 1 hat bo>
IS either an ineorrigibl) truthful ^oung ass, or a brilliantly
clever acleir. lie's got )our Superintendent flannas\dc
gue ‘ mg, Gil( s Vi'lat’s moi t , he ’s got ) ou guessing as w ell
S i)u don’t know whether he d'd it or not ”

“No, I don’t. I don’t c\cn know whctln r he’d he capable
ofdomgit. He’s a queei lish. ( uriousK told blooded ’
“He’s capable ot it, all iijtht But w belher he did it or not I
t an’t m il e oe t 1 ere t' dw\d i/t rp\ spt ’■lelcs'' ’

CHAPltR VIII

Tiii Deputy-manager of the Sha^i Hills Mining C^ompany,
Mr. Harold Fairfax, received Superintendent Hannasyde with
anxious deference, and raised no ob)cction at all to the
Superintendent’s request that he might be allowed to question
certain members of the staff. Mr. F airfax was a spare little
man of middle age, and seemed to be m a perpetual state of
being worried. He could tlirow no light on the mystery of
Arnold Vereker’s death. ou see,'’ he said unhappily,
many people disliked Mr. Verckcr Ik was a hard man, oh, a
vet} hard man* 1 — J beheve he trusted me I hke to think he
did. We never quarrelled. Sometimes he would be ver> short
with me, but 1 have known him for a gieat many A^ars, and 1
think I understood him It is a dieadhil thing, his murder, an
appalling thing. \nd all, pethaps, because someone couldn^t .
make allowances for ms temper”'

Miss Miller, Arnold Vereker’s secretary, was moie helpful
She was a busmesslike looking woman, of an age hard 1o
determine. She fixed her cold, competent eyes on the
Superintendent, and answered his questions with a com-
posure tinged with contempt She told him the exaet hour of
Arnold Vereker’s arrival at the oflu e on Saturday mormng,
she recited a list of the engagements be had had, and described
his callers ‘"At five and twenty minutes past ten,” she sai^
briskly, “Mr. Vereker sent for Mr Mesurier, who remained
in his room for twenty-seven minutes.”

“You are very exact, Miss Miller,” said the Superintendent
pohtcly.

She smiled with tolerant superiority. “Certainly. I pride
myself on bemg efficient. Mr. Mesuner was sent for

82

DEATH IK THE STOCKS 8$

immediately after the departure of Sir Henry Watson, whose
appointment, as I have informed you, was at tea o’clock. Mr.
Cednc Johnson, of Messrs. Johnson, Hayes & Ifcversidc,
had an appomtment with Mr. Vereker at eleven, and arrived
seven mmutes early. I informed Mr. Vereker at once, through
the medium of the house telephone, and Mr. Mesurict then
came out, and, I presume, returned to his own othce.”

“Thank you,” said the Superintendent. “C an you teU me
if there was any unpleasantness durmg anj^ of Mr. Vereker’s
appomtments that mornmg?”

“Yes, Mr. Vercker’s interview with Mr. Mesuricr was, I
imagme, extremely unpleasant.”

“Why do you imagine that. Miss Miller^”

She raised her brows. “ ITic room which is my office
communicates with the late Mi . Vereker’s I could hardly fad
to be awart of a quarrel taking plact behind the intervening
door.”

“Do jrou know what the quarrel was about?”

“If I did I should immediately have volunteered the in-
formation, which must necessarily be of importance. But it is
not my custom either to hsten at keyholes, or to waste my
employer’s time. Durmg Mr. Vercktt’s mterview with Mr
Mesuner, and his subsequent one with Mr. ( cdric Johnson, I
occupied myself with Mr. Vereker’s correspondence, using
the dictaphone and a typewriter \V n it was said, therefore, 1
did not hear, or wish to heat. I^rom umc to tunc both voices
were raised to what I can only describe as shoutmg-pitch.
More than that I am not prepared to sav.”

He put one or two other questions to her, and then got rid
of her, and asked to see Mr. Rudolph Mesuti«,r.

Mesuner came in five minutes L" . He looked rather
white, but greeted Hannas}de easily and cheerfully. “Siqief-
intendent Hannasyde, isn’t it^ Good-moming. You’re
mvestigating the cause of Arnold Vereker’s death, I under-

84 DKATIIIKTHESTOCKS

Stand. Rather an awful thing, isn’t it? I mean, stabbed like
that, in the back. Anything 1 can tell you that might help you,
I shall be only too glad to — only I’m afraid I can’t tell you
much.” He laughed apologetically, and sat down on one side
of the bare mahoganj table, carefully hitching up his beauti-
fully creased trousers. “Just what is it you want to know?”
he asked.

“W’ell, I want to know several things, Mr. iviesuriei,”
answered the Superintendent. ‘Tan you remember where
5 ou were on Saturday evening between the liours of —let us
say eleven o’clock and two o’clock?”

Mesuricr wrinkled his brow. “Let me sec now: Saturday!
Oh yes, of course! l was at home. Rcdclj^e Oardens, Earl’s
( ourt. i have digs there.”

“Are ) ou sure that vou were at home then, Air. iVcsuricr?”

“Well, reall} i'''esurier laughed agam^ a little

nerv'ously. “1 vas certainly under thar impression! 1 had a
bit of a head that night, and 1 went to bed early.”

Hannasyde looked at him for a few moments. Mesuricr
stared back into his eyes, and moistened his lips. “V\ here do
you garage your car?” asked I lannasyde.

hat an odd question! Just round the corner. I have a
lock-up garage, you know, in a mews.”

“Are you always careful to keep that garage locked, Air.
A'esurici?”

Aiesurier replied a shade too quickly. “Oh, T’m afraid I’m
rather casual sometimes! ( )f course, 1 do usually see that it’s
locked, but occasionally, when I’ve been in a hurry — ^you
know how it is!”

“Did you use your car at all on Saturday?”

“No, I don’t think J Oh yes, I did, though!”

“At what time?”

“VC ell, I don’t really remember. In the afternoon.”

“And when did you return it to the garage?”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 85

Mesuticr uncrossed his legs, and then crossed them again.
“It must have been sometime during the early part of the
evening. I’m afraid I’m a bit hazy about times. And of
course, not knowing that it would be important — ^the time 1
garaged the car, I mean ”

“Are you sure, Mr. JMesurier, that when you say the early
part of the evening, you don’t mean the early part of the
morning^”

“I — don’t understand you. I’ve already told you I went
to bed early. I don’t quite follow what you’re driving at. I
mean, if you think I had anything to do with Arnold Veteker’s
death It’s too utterly absurd.”

“'ilie propnetor of the four lock-up garages in the mews,”
said Hannasyde, consulting his notes, “states that you took
your car out at approximately five o’clock.”

“I daresay he’s quite right. 1 certainly shan’t dispute it. 1
told you 11 was during the afternoon. Wliat 1 don’t under-
stand is why you should be so interested in my movements.
Frightfully thorough of yt>u, and aU tliat, but I must say I find
It rather amusing that you should actually take the trouble to
question them at the garage'”

“The proprietor further states,” continued Hannasyde un-
emotionally, “that at onc-fot<y-f ve a.m., on Simdav, he was
awakened by the sound of one of the garages being opened.
Apparently the garage you rent is inuncdi.itely beneath his
bedroom. He declares that he recognized the engine-note of
the car being driven into the garage.”

“Of course that’s perfectly preposterous!” Mesurier said.
“In any case, it wasn’t my car. Unless, of course, someone
else had her out. If I forget to lock the garage they might
easily have done so, you know.”

“VC^o?” asked Hannasyde.

“Who?” Mesurier looked quickly across athim, and away
again. “I’m sure I don’t know! Anybody!”

S6 ]>EATHINTHE STOCKS

"Whoevet took yout cat out on Satutday evening must
have had a key to the garage, Mr. Mesuxiet. The ptopxietot
states that wh^ you had left the mews in the cat shortly after
live he himself shut the doors. ^ hen he went to bed at ten-
thirty they were still locked.”

“I daresay he was mistaken. Mot that I’m saymg anyone
did take my car out. It’s much more hkely that the car he
heard at one-forty five was someone else’s. I mean, he was
probably half-asleep, and anyway he could not recogmae the
engine-note so positively as all that.”

“You will agree, then, that it is highly improbable that
anyone should have taken jour car out of the garage on
Saturday mght?”

“VC cll, 1 — ^it looks like It, certainly, but 1 don’t know that
no one did. 1 mean. ... 1 ,ook here, I don’t in the least sec
why you should bother so much about my car when 1 ’ve told
you ”

“I’m bothermg about it, Mr. Mesurier, because your car
was seen by a Constable on patrol-duty, at a point known as
Dimbuxy ( orner, ten miles from Hanborough, on the London
Road, at twenty six mmutes to one on Sunday mornmg,” said
Hannasyde.

Again Mesuritr moistened his bps, but for a moment or
two he did not speak. The ticking of a sohd lookmg clock on
the mantelpiece became suddenh audible. Mesurier glanced
at It, as though the measured sound got on his nerves, and
said “He must liave been mistaken, that’s all I can say.”

“Is the number of your car A.MG240?” asked Hannasyde.

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

“Then I don’t think he was mistaken,” said Hannasyde.

“He must have been. He misread the number Probably
ANG,or — or AHG. In any case, I wasn’t on the Hanborough
Road at that hour.” He put up a hand to his head, and
smoothed his sleek black hair. “If that’s all the case you’ve

DBAl’H IN THE STOCKS

87

got against me. ... 1 mean, this Constable’s memory
against my word, I don’t think much of it. Not that 1 wish tp
be offensive, you know. You detectives have to try every-
thing, of course, but ”

“Quite so, Mr. Mesurier.” Tlie Superintendent’s even
voice effectually silenced Alesurier. “You are only being asked
to account for your movemaits on Saturday night. If you
were in your lodgings all the evening you can no doubt
produce a witness to corroborate the truth of that statement?’’

“No, I don’t think I can,” Mesurier said with an imeasy
smile. “My landlady and her husband always go out on
Saturday evening, so they wouldn’t know whether I was in or
out.” He became aware of a piece of cotton on liis sleeve,
and picked it off, and began to fidget with it.

“That is unfortunate,” said Hannasyde, and once more
consulted his notes. He said abruptly: “You had an interview
with Arnold Vereker at ten-thirty on Saturday morning. Is
tliat correa?”

“Well, I wouldn’t swear to the exact time, but I did see him
on Saturday.”

“Was the interview an unpleasant one, Mr. Mesurier?”

“Unpleasant? I don’t quite ”

“Did a quarrel take place between you and Mr. Vereker
on that occasion?”

“Oh lord, nol” Mesurier cried. “Vereker was a bit peeved
that mo rning , but we did not quart el. I mean, why should
we?”

Hannasyde laid his notes down. “I think,” he said, “that
wc shall get along faster if I tell you at once, Mr. Mesurier,
that I am in possession of a certain letter roncerning you
which Mr. Vereker wrote to the firm’s solicitor on Satur^y.
You may read it, if you choose.”

Mesurier held out his hand for the letter, and said: “This —
this isn’t Vereker’s writing.”

88

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

“No, it is mine,” said Haonasyde. “That is a copy of the
original.”

Mcsurier, a tinge of colour in his cheeks, read the letter,
and put it down on the table. “1 don’t know what you expect
me to say. It’s an absolute misstatement ”

“Mr. Mesuricr, please understand me! The particular point
raised in that letter does not concern me. I am not investigat-
ing the accounts of this company, but the murder of its
chairman. The information contained in the letter tells me
that your interview with Arnold Vereker on Saturday
morning cannot have been a pleasant one. In addition, I have
already ascertained that both your voices were heard raised in
anger. Now ”

“That bloody cat. Rose Aiillcr!” exclaimed Mesuncr,
flushing. “Of course, if you’re going to believe what she
says . . . ! She’s always had her knife into me. It’s a com-
plete lie to say that we quarrelled. Vereker went fc* me, and I
shan’t attempt to deny that he was in a bad temper. In fact, he
actually accused me of embezzling. Utterly ridiculous, I need
liardly say. As a mat<cr of fact 1 got into a bit of a mess — ^lost
a packet lacuig, if you W'ant to know how— and I I
borrowed a little from the Ann, just to tide me over. Of
course I know 1 oughtn’t to have done it, but when you’re
hard presst d you do silly things. But to say I stole the money
IS— is positively laughablei I mean, if I’d wanted to do that I
shouldn’t be paymg it back, which even Vereker admits I am
domg. He simply had a down on me — ”

“Because he had discovered that you had become engaged
to his half-sister?”

“That liad nothing to do with him at all!” iViesurier said
quickly. “He didn’t care a brass farthing about Tony.”

“He seemed to think it had a great deal to do with him,”
said Hannasyde, a dry note in his voice. “He threatened you
wiA exposure, didn’t he?”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

89

‘‘Oh, he threatened me with all sorts of things!” said
Mesuricr. “I can’t say I took him ‘very seriously, though. J
knew perfectly well he wouldn’t prosecute when he’d had
lime to think it over. I mean, it would be too silly, on the face
of it.”

“Would It?” said Hannasyde. “You will admit, 1 imagine,
tliat if he had prosecuted you for — er — ^borrowing the iirm’s
money, your career would have been ruined.”

“I don’t know so much about tliat,” Mcsuritr said un-
easily. “Of course, it would ha\c been damned unpleasant,
but ”

“1 am speaking entirely in your interests, Mr. Mesuricr,
when I say tlut the best thing you can do is to tell me the
truth about your movements (»n Saturday night. Think n
ovei.”

“1 don’t need to. You uxn't prove it w.is my c.xr that the
bobby thought be saw — and t-'^en if it was it eert tuily wasn’t
me drn mg it.” lie got up. ‘‘ 1 hat’s absolutelv all I have to

baj ,

‘‘Ihen I won’t keep }<)u any loiigjcr/’ said Ilannasydc.
‘‘But I still adMsc )()u to tlunk it o\cr/’

By the time the Superintendent left the Shan HiUs ^N^irung
i ompanj’s premises tt was four o’clock. Waiting him
ri the main hall of the building was Ins suhi>fdinate, one
Sergeant Henungwa} , a cheerful person vitli a bright e} e and
a persuasive manner. ThL\ went out u^gethei tc* the nearest
tea-shop, and, over cups ot strong tea, compared notes.

“The trouble is,” remaikcd the Sergeant at length, “there’s
many people with good motives. 1 never like that kind of
case. Super. Do you remember the ( )tter&ha\v marder? Took
ten years off my life, that did,” lie pro "d one of the buns
which the waitress had set before them, and shook his head.
“Not at my age,” he said. “You ought to be able to have ’em
up for foisting that kind of food on the public. Keep me

90 DEATH IN IHE STOCKS

awake all night, that would. Take this young Veteket chap.
He’s a new one on me, Supet. Make anything of him?”

“No,” said Hannasyde slowly. “Nothmg at all yet. He’s a
new one on me too. I suspect, a nughty slippery customer.”

“He’s got the biggest motive of the lot, 1 know that. Here,
miss, you take these buns back where they came from, which
was the dustbin, 1 should thmk, judging from the look of
them, and bring a nice plate of bread'and-buttcr, there’s a
good girl.”

“Sauce'” said the wailrets, tossmg her head.

1 he Scigc.mt winked at her, and turned back to I lannasyde.
“Smart-looking girl, that. Vtell, now, f’ve got something for
j^ou. I w'cnt round to tins studio, accordmg to your in-
structions, and got talkmg to the skiwj there. Regular old
cough drop she is, too. Name of Murgatroyd. Used to be
personal maid to the second Mrs. Vercker before she was
married, mul after. Stopped on after Mrs. Vereker died, and
acted nurse to the kids, h ou get the lajout. Super. She’s the
devoted fanul) u tamer all nght. ^’cll, I did what 1 could,

jolljing her along, but she was close as an oyster Tliank

you, miss ” Ht waited imtil the waitress had removed hcrsclt
out of earshot, and then contmued: “Close as an oystei.
Suspicious and waiy. But one thmg she did say and stuck
to.”

“\!Chat was it?”

The Sergeant folded one of the shces of bread-and-butter
in half, and put it into his mouth. Vt hen it w-as possible for
him to speak intelligibly, he said. “She told me that whatcvti
anyone might say to die contrary she was ready to get up and
sw ear her Master Kenneth was safely tucked up in his bed and
sleeping hke a lamb at midnight on Saturday.”

“Did she really say that?” inquired Hannasyde, mildly
curious.

“I won’t swear to it those were her exact words,” replied

DbATH IN THL STOCKS 9I

the Sergeant, unabashed* “T may ha\e made it a bit more
poetic. But that was the gist of it. Now you ttll me that the
said aslc r Kenneth admits he was rampagine* round t(iwn up
till four o’clock Bit of a departmt nt^l muddle. Super 1 onl s
like they 1 a\ cn’t got together enough o\ cr the question ol
alibis ”

‘‘1 don’t m?ke much ot it,” said Hann^sjdc “It’" obvious
that young Veteker’s pi)Sition is \cty weak, and if this
Muroratfojd is ? at 'voted old sti\ant, that’s ju l the soil ol
gallant attempt to pt itect him \ou’d txpect her to make ”
“I’m not sating it isn t, Suj ci I’ll go so fat as to say it u
I ut 'svhrt.t j’ll siy IS that the old giiTs seated She’s afraid
'loung \ettl'er did it It she '\\as plumb sure he didn’t she’d
have bitten nit head oft foi daring to eoi it round suspecting
1 er darling hot ”

H<)nms\dc pU down his cup ‘ I ook licit, dul she talK
likcth'^Lornot ”

“She did not,” said the Sei e ml I h t\ m poiiil, Super
I figured she W(juld ’

“Vlit--’

“rsycholrg\,” Si^d the Vigeant, \aguelv waving hi
fourth sbcc of bit ad and butui in the ur

‘ Cut It out,” >nd his sup^riot unkind*'' v' 1 at ihd ou
hnd out about Vc 1C ktr’s thaufteut^”

It wasn’t him ^ ou’ll have to tule him out, i)Up^t \ >
good at all I’ll tell t ou what he w *s di mg on S^turdat

‘ \ou needn’t b( ther 1 ut it in a report I thmk I’ll pa^ a
call on Miss Vcrckei ”

The Serge int cocked a wist eyebrow “Ml on account of
I Jght lingered Rudolph*^ She gets a Iclt'^r from Vrnold,
spilbng tlie beans about him cooking the accemnts, and
thieatcmng to rum him, so down s^ goes to plead for
Rudolph, and when that turns out to be no use, sticks a knife
in the cruel half brother I haven’t worked out how she got

4

92 DEATHINTHEStOCKS

him in the stocks, but £com what I can make out about these
Veiekcrs that’s just the sort of joke they would pull, and
think a proper scream. Myself I haven’t got that type of
humour, but it takes all sorts to make a world. It’s a wonder
anyone ever gets out of these tea and bun bazaars, the trouble
it is to get the girls to come across with the bill. I’ve been
trying to catch Henna’ed Hannah’s eye for the past ten
minutes. I know what my job is now. Super. I’ve got to check
up on Friend Rudolph.” He looked shrewdly at his chief, for
he had worked with him often before, and knew him.
“Worried about Rudolph, aren’t you. Super?”

“"i'es, I am,” replied Hannasyde. “He fits, and yet he
doesn’t fit. See what you can find out, Hemingway.”

The Sergeant nodded. “I will that, sir. But he can’t have
done it. Not to my way of thinking. Here, Gladys — Maud —
Gwendolyn, whatever your name is — tell me this: Are you
standing us this tea?”

“I never did! \ou liaven’t half got a nerve!”*said the
waitress, giggling.

“I onlv asked because you seemed kind of shy of bringing
the bill,” said the Sergeant.

“You jre a one'” said the waitress, greatly diverted.

CHAPTLR IX

Murgatroyd, opening the doot to Supcnnlendent Han-
nasydc, stood squarely in the aperture and asked him
aggressiveh what he wanted. He asked if Miss Vcreker was
in and she said “'That’s as may be. Your name, please, and
business.”

His ej'es rwmkled. “My name is Hannasjde, and my
business is with Miss Vcreker.”

“I know •very well what you are,” said Murgatroyd. “I’ve
had another of you here to day, and I’ve had enough. li the
pohee would let well alone it would be a good thmg for
everyone.” She stood aside to allow him to enter, and led him
across the tmy hall to the studio. “It’s the pohee agam. Miss
Tony,” she announced. “I suppose jou’d better see him ”

Antoma was sitting by the wmdow ■with two of her dogs
at her feet. One of them. Bill, recognized an acquamtance in
the Superintendent, and wildly thumped his tail, his daughter,
Jimo, however, got up gro-wling.

“Ah, who sa)s dogs have no sensed” said Murgatroyd
darkly.

“Shut up, Juno'” commanded Antoma. “Oh, it’s the
Supermtendent' 1 hat means I’m gomg to be interrogated all
over again. Have some tea^”

“'Thank you. Miss Vereker, but I’ve had tea,” said Han-
nasyde, his eyes on a big canvas on the easel.

Antoma said kindly “Daun W md, but it isn’t iimshed vet.
My brother’s new picture ”

Hannasyde went up to look more closely at it. “Your
brother told me to-day that lus hands are worth mote than all
your half-brother’s money,” he remarked.

93

94 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

"‘Yes, he does think a lot of himself/’ agreed Antonia.
“You’ll have to get used to that sort of swank if you mean to
see much of him.”

“Well, 1 was thinking that hc"s probably right/’ said
Hannasyde. “I d(jn’t pretend to know much about art,
but ”

“Don’t say that!” besought .\ntonia. “Every well-
mt^ming idiot says it. What on earth are you standing there
for, Murgatroyd?”

“You may be glad of me staying/’ said Aluigatroyd grimly.

“Well, I shan’t. N(^t after the way )ou shoved yout finger
into Kentieth’s pic with all that rot about him being in bed
at midnight.”

“V, hat Tve said I stand by,” replied Murgatrojd.

“What’s the use of standing by it when nobodj l)elievcs
you?” said Antonia reasonabl3% “ Ynyw^ay, don’t stand there,
because it puts me oJ.” ^

“ W^'ll, 3'ou know v/here I am if 3 on want me/’ Mur gatroyd
replied, and withdrew,

“Sit down,” invited Antonia. "'What do jou want to
Imow?”

“Wliat w^s in that letter,” replied the Superintendent
promptly.

“Winch letter? --Oh, Arnold’s! Nothing much.”

“If there was nothing mudi m it v^hy did )ou destroy it?”
asked Hannasyde.

“It was that scirt of a letter.”

“irA/7/ sort of a letter?”

“The sort 3^ou destroy j.ook here, we’re beginning

to sound like a pair of cross talk comedians!” Antonia
pointed emt .

“Very like,” agreed the Superintendent evenly. “Did )ou
destroy the letter because it contained a rather serious
accusation against Mr. Rudolph Mesurier?”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 95

Antonia looked defensive. “It didn’t.”

“Quite sure, Miss Vetelrer?”

Antonia propped her cliin in her hands and frowned. “1
wish I could remember what I said in tliat ghouhsh Police
Station,” she said. “I almost wish 1 hadn’t burned the letter,
too. Because you seem to think it was frightfully important,
and as a matter of fact it wasn't. It was just a gential hate
against Rudolph.”

“No specific charge?”

“No. He just ran through Roget’s 'Ihcsaurus for
synonyms of Scoundrel, and put them all hito the leUer.”

“"i ou say that there was no specific charge, \iiss Vereker,
but does a business man like your half-brother threaten to
take legal proceedings against another man without any
definite reason?”

“The whole point is, did he mean it, or w’as he merely
woffling?” Aiitoiua said, off her guard, “lliat’s what I went
to find out.” She broke off and flushed angrily. “Damn }'nu,
you don’t play fair!”

“I’m not playing, I\!iss Vereker.”

She looked up quickly, for there was a liint of sternness
in his voice. Before she had time to speak he went t»n:
“Arnold Vereker wrote U> you forbidding )our engage-
ment to Alesurier. According to you, he gave no delimte
reason for this. But vou have admitted that he threatened
to prosecute Mesuricr for some offence or otJier, and you
have also admitted that his letter made you exceedingly
angry.”

“Df course it didl’’ she said impatiently. “It would make
anybody angry 1”

“I expect so. Perhaps it may also have alarmed j’ou?”

“No, why should it? 1 wasn’t afraid v i' Vrnold.”

“Not on your own account, but were you not alarmed for
Mesurier?”

^6 DEATKIM THE STOCKS

“No, because I didn’t take the letter seriously.”

"You took it seriously enough to drive all the way to
Ashkigh Green that day.”

“Only because I wanted to know just what Arnold had
against Rudolph, and to stop him spreading any filthy story
about him.”

“How did you propose to do that. Miss Vereket?”

She considered this. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t think
I’d worked it out.”

“In fact, you were so angry with him that you got straight
into your car and drove to Ashleigh Green without having
the least idea what you would do when you got there?”

“Oh no>” said Antonia sarcastically. “I took a knife and
stuck it into Arnold, and then went and spent the night in
his house just to make sure you’d know I was the murderess;
and finally told your silly policeman there were bloodstains
on my skirt.” She broke off, her ill humour* suddenly
vanislu'ng. “Which isn’t as idiotic as it sounds,” she said.
“Now I come to think of it, that wouldn’t have been at all a
bad plan if I’d muTder.;d Arnold. In fact, definitely brilliant,
because no jury would ever beheve I could have been fool
enough to loiter round the scene of the crime and brandish
blood-stained garments about. I must put that to Giles.” At
this moment Kenneth stroUed into the studio. Antonia
immediately propounded her notions to him.

Superintendent Hannasyde had seen enough of the
Verekers by this time to feel very little surprise at the
enthusiasm with which Kenneth at once entered into a
discussion.

“That’s all very well,” Keimeth said, "but what about the
dog-fight?”

“I could easily have staged that,” his sister said
napoleonically.

“Not at that hour of night,” objected Kenneth. “If you

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 97

murdered Arnold and got blood on your clothes, meeting
the retriever, or whatever it was, was sheer luck. Also you
haven’t piled up enough e\ idence against yourself. Obviously
if you were clever enough to commit a murder and plant
yourself down in the murdered man’s house afterwards you
ought to have told as many people as you could that you xwere
going down to have it out with Arnold. No one’ld believe
you killed him after that. What do you think. Superin-
tendent?”

“J think,” replied Ilannasyde, exasperated, “that your
tongues arc likely to lead you into serious trouble.”

“Ah!” said Kenneth, a wicked gleam in his eye. “That
means you don’t know what to make of us.”

“Quite possibly,” said Hannasyde, unsmiling, and took
his leave. But he admitted later to his subordinate that the
young devil had gauged the situation correctly.

Meanwhile Antoma had summoned her fianed to come to
see her as soon as he left the office. Wlien he arrived, which
was shortly after six o’clock, he found brother and sister
arguing over the correct amount of absinthe to be put into
the cocktail-shaker. Neither paid much attention to him
until a decision had been reached, but when Kenneth had
finally won his point on the score of being several years
Antonia’s senior, and the mixture had been well shaken and
poured into the glasses, Antonia nodded to her betrothed
and said; “I’m glad you were able to come. I’ve had the
Superintendent-man here, and 1 thi-ik wc ought to tflk
tilings over.”

Rudolph shot her one quick glance and said: “How very
serious you look, darling! You mustn’t let all this get on
your nerves, you know. \)Cbat has the worthy Superin-
tendent got in his bonnet now?”

“This is a bloody cocktail,” said Kenneth dispassion-
ately. “You can’t have mixed it as I told you. If you think

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

98

the human sleuth is interested in you you’re wrong. He’s
hot on my trail, and I won’t have him diverted. Oh here’s
Lesliel I.eslie, my sweet, come on upl” He leaned out of the
window and addressed Miss Rivers at the top of his voice.
“The gy\’es ate practically on my wrists, darling, so come up
for a last cocktail. No, on second thoughts, don’t. Tony
mixed it. I’ll stand you a drink at .he Clarence Arms.” He
drew in his head, set his glass down on the table and vanished
precipitately from the studio.

Antonia, her attention once more distracted from her
fianc6, hung out of the window and conferred with Miss
Rivers until Kenneth presently emerged into the mews and
swept the visitor off in the direction of the Clarence Arms,
She then turned back to Rudolph and demanded to know
what they had been talking about.

“Oh, I think you were worried about the Superintendent,
weren’t you?” Mesurier said, “ft’s all frightfully ujisetting
for you, dearest.”

“Nf*, it isn’t,” said Antonia bluntlj. “Rut what 1 want to
know is, wliat have you been up to, Rudolph?”

He changed colour, but replied vith an amused laugh;
“Up to, Tonj? How do }mu meani>”

“Well,” said Aniorua, linishing her cocktail, “the
impression I’ve got is that you’ve been forging Arnold’s
name or something.”

“Tony!” he cried indignantly. “If thafs the opinion you
have of me ”

“Do shut up!” begged Antonia. “This is serious. It’s
why I went down to see Arnold on Saturday night. He said
he was going to prosecute you.”

“Swine!”

“I know, but what was it all about?”

Mesurier took a turn round the studio, his hands thrust
into his pockets. “I’m in a damned awkward position!” he

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

99

said suddenly. “God knows I didn’t want you to be dtagged
into It, but if I don’t tell you some one else will, llunk me
what you like, but ”

“bony to interrupt, but just open that cupboard and sec
if there’s a bottle of salted almonds, will you^” asked
Antoma. “I’ve suddenly remembered buying some and put
ting them either there or ”

“’They aren’t here,” said Rudolph m an offended \oicc
“Of comse, it salted almonds are moie important to you
than my ”

“No, but I distinctly remember getting some,” said
Antonia. “And if we’ve got some it seems a pity — How
e\ er. It doesn’t really matter (jo on about the forgery .”

“Ihere is no forgery. Though (lod knows I’ve been
through such .i hi 11 ol auMcty about moniy that it’s a wonder
I’m not a lotger ”

“Pad luck’” said Antonia, with pohtc but damping
s\ nipathy

Mcsufier said in a more natuial voite “Iheyve found
out somctlung Not that it can harm me. \\ hat I mean is.
It doesn’t prove I murdered Arnold, though it naturally
makes the pohee suspiaous 1— you see, T onv. I’ve been m
the devil of a jam. Had to raise some cash somehow or other,
and raise it cjuick, so I — sort of tjorroved a spot from the
firm —Arnold’s firm, you know . (tf course 1 need hardly tdl
you It was nothing but a loan, to ties me over, and as a
matter of fact I’ve been stcadiH pay ng ft back. You do
undeistand, don’t you, darling^”

“^’cs, absolutely,” respited Antonia “T'ou cooked the
accounts, and \ mold found out. I’ye often wondered how
that’s done, by the way. How do > ou do it, Rudolph-'”

He flushed. “Please It— this i .n’t very pleasant for

me, Tony. I ought not to have done it, but 1 thought I
could pay it all back before the nc3i.t audit. I never dreamed

lOO

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

Arnold had his eye on me. Then he sprang it on me —
actually on Satur^y morning. He was fflthily ofiensive —
you know what he could be likel We — we had a bit of a
row, and he threatened to take the whole thing into court,
largely, I’m afraid, because you’d told him of our engage-
ment, darling. Not that I’m blaming you, but it was rather
unfortunate, all things considered And the devil of it is
that we were heard — ^well — quarrelling— by that foul iMiller
girl, and, of course, she pitched in a highly exaggerated stor}’

to the Superintendent. And on top of that ” He paused,

and studied his well-manicured nails for a moment, a pucker
between his brows. “The most extraordinary thing,” he said
slowly. “I confess I don’t understand it. Some idiot of a
village Constable imagines he saw my car ten miles from
Hanboiough on Saturday night. It’s utterly absurd, of course,
but you can see what an ugly complexion it puts on tilings.”

She sat np suddenly. “Rudolph, how did you know which
day Arnold was murdered?”

He blinked at her. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. On Sunday, -when you came here to supper,
you said you’d quartelled with Arnold on the very day he
was murdered.”

“Did I? I expect you’d told me, then. I don’t know how
else I could have known.”

“I wish you’d stop being guarded,” Antonia complained.
“If you killed Arnold you might just as well say so, because
Kenneth and I don’t mind a bit about that, and we shouldn’t
dream of giving you away.”

‘T didn’t kill liim. For God’s saltc don’t go about talking
like that!”

“Well, what’s all this about your car being seen near
Hanborough?”

“It wasn’t! I mean, I don’t know whether it was or not,
but I wasn’t in it. I was in my digs all the evening. I can’t

DEATH IN THE STOCKS lOI

prove that, biit if they’re going to take one sleepy bobby’s
word against mine ”

“The fact of the matter is none of ns can prove any-
thing,” said Antonia cheerfully. “You’ve merely joined
the noble army of suspects. Kenneth’!! be rather fed-up
if you become chief suspect. He thinks he’s being awfully
clever, and I daresay he is. He can be when he hkes.”

Rudolph let himself sink down into one of the big arm-
chairs, and dropped his head in his hands. “You can treat
it as a joke, but 1 tell you it’s damned serious,” he said, his
voice a little unsteady. “1 hat Superintendent thinks 1 did it.
He doesn’t believe anything I say. I can see he doesn’t. I
don’t know what the hell to do, Tony!”

He sounded helpless, frightened, and although such a
mood of panic was alien to her nature she responded af once
as well as she could. “I shouldn’t worry,” she said, patting
his knee. “I’ll ask Giles what he thinks. He’s tonung here
this evening to talk business with Kenneth, ou don’t mind,
do you?”

He .seemed undecided. “He knows anyway,” he said.
“Arnold wrote a letter about me to his uncle, and the
Superintendent got it. Of course your cousin must have
seen it. I don’t know that I exactly v/md consulting him,
because I haven’t anything to conceal. I mean ”

At this moment the studio door opened, and Giles
tiarrington came in, accompanied b\ Kenneth. Antonia
greeted him with a friendly smile, but desired her brother to
tell her what he had done with Miss Rivers.

“She pushed off homewards,” answered Kenneth.
“Cigarette, Giles? — if there are any, which I doubt.”

“Oh, well, in that case we can talk!” said Antonia briskly.
“Giles, do you know about Rudolpl, cooking the firm’s
accounts, or not?”

“What?” ejaculated Kenneth, pausing in his search for

102

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

the cigarettes, and turning to stare at Mesurier. “Actually
emberzling funds? Did you really?”

His manner was partly interested, partly critical, and it
goaded Rudolph, deeply flushed, to defend himself. His
explanation was met with so derisive a laugh that Antonia
at once took up the cudgels, and told her brother he needn’t
be offensive, because for one reason she wouldn’t put it
above liim to cook accounts, and for another it had nothing
to do with him.

“Oh yes, it has!” objected Kenneth. “You seem to forget
I’m the heir. I daresay I could* prosecute, if I wanted to.
Not that I do, of course, though I do rather draw the line at
embezzling. It’s one thing to bump a man off, but quite
anotlier to monkey wiili his accounts. However, don’t think
I’m being captious. 1 expect it seemed good lo you at the
time, Rudolph.’’

Mesurier said angrily: “I don’t care for yourrfone! I’m
willing to admit I shouldn’t liave borrowed the money, but
when you accuse me of ”

“My bonny lad, t Ijaven't accused vou »)f anything,” said
Kenneth, beginmng to fill a pipe. “Tony said you’d been
cooking the firm’s accounts; I merely displayed the proper
amount of surprise, interest and disappioval.”

Antonia had drawn her cousin over lo the window, and
stood there facing him, with one hand lighrly grasping his
slcc\e. She looked gravely up at him and asked quietly:
“He’s m a mess, isn’t he^”

“1 don’t know, Tonv.”

“Well, I llimk he is. You will help him, won’t you,
Ciles^” He did not answer immediately, and she added after
a moment: “You see, I’m engaged to be married to him.”

“That isn't an inducement to me, Tony.”

Her candid eyes were a trifle puzzled; they searched his
unavailingly. “Isn’t it?” she asked, seeking enlightenment.

DEATH IN THE STOCKS IO5

“( )h» Well — well- will a ou do it for me, ( jiles^'”

He looked down at her, and at her hand, still claspin^^
Ills sleeve. “I suppose so, 1 onv,” he said in his level wa^,
and glanced across the big io(^m to where Mesuiier and
Kenneth were arguing ‘'Shut up, Kcnnah,” he said
pleasantl} “"i cs, I know about the letter my cousin wrote
before his death, \icsurier Tl do< sn’t pro^ e, yoa know, that
you had anything to do with his luutdei ”

‘ agreed y'ntonia, ‘ bat tht bit about the car not
good Jell m’v cousin, Rudolph, he i».xlK is c^ure
helpful ”

^^esm^cr o-ave a shrug to Ins should^r^ (;h, tints
nothing but a ridiculous mist ike ini the put ot the police
me local 1 obhy imagine he siw ni\ c n ii Ihniboi )v li
on the night ol the murJ^ i, ( airin<don ’

I'^oliccmeii haven't got n uo-inations ’ snd Kenneth, who
h 1 stretclcd liimseU ilong the soli 1 •> pipe le+vecn 1 is
tec th

1 1 ks was frowning si ghtl ‘ Kie was on cii-' ’ r c
xsked

“l-« the gxr^ge, ^ suppo ^ me in, 1 spl u the evening at
liome ”

I see (an you pioduee am one to (orioioiite tliti
<t teme it^ ’

“±\(), IS i muter o^ I »ct, 1 c ui’t,’ sod with i

slijht uncomfortable Ini ^h ‘ Seems silly, lut die truth is [
hid a bad head ichc, and I Went t > bed earh

‘ S ou are i rotten liar/' obstiv^d Keiineth la/iK ‘ Hh\
bitthct^ If c wont give xou awa\ 1 might <ven lx stow 1
suuabk leward on you Or would that m klic'^te^”

(jiles Slid rather steinb our o n story is just as thin,
Kenneth ”

“Admittedly, but I tell it with a much better grace,'"

104 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

Keunedi pointed out. do you think, Tony? Did he do
it? I don’t believe he had the nerve.”

“Of course he had the nerve!” said Antonia indignantly.
“The trouble with you is that you’re so taken up with
admiring your own cleverness in baffling the police that you
don’t think anyone else is capable of doing anything.”

Giles, who had ignored this interchange, was looking
steadily at Mesurier. “When you say that a bobby saw your
car on the night of the murder, do you mean that he saw a
car of the same make as yours, or that he actually read your
number on its plate?”

“My number,” Mesuritr answered, “or so he thinks. But
he could easily have muddled it up with another, which is,
of course, what he did do.”

“I can so readily picture our friend the Superintendent
lapping that story up,” remarked Kenneth, “Tony, your
young man promised well at one time, but he begins to bore
me now.”

Giles took out his cigarette-case and opened it. “It isn’t
for me to question your story, Mesurier. I can only say that
if it’s true I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Kudolph ejaculated. “I don’t understand you!”

Giles lit a agarette and pitched the dead match into the
grate. “For your sake, vet}*. You had an excellent ahbi
there, Mesurier.”

“Alibi! Where?”

“In the car,” replied Giles. “For if you had been driving
your car back to London from Hanborough that night [
don’t think you could very well have been the murderer.”

CHAPThR X

The effect of this calm pronouncement was slightlj ludicrous.
Rudolph Mesurier hhnkcd at him in a bewildered manner and
said: “ITien — then I might just as well have admitted I was
out^ But I don’t understand what you’re driving at!”

“It IS always better to speak the truth,” said Kenneth
smuglv. “Witness my own masterly conduct of this highly
intricate case.”

“I daresa),” rcspondid his sister. “But did you speat the
truth?”

“Tliat, my love,” said Kenneih, “is for the police find
out.”

“Oh, I wish you’d shut up'” Mesurier said, c\aspcraied.
“It’s all verj’ well for you to he there and sneer, but I’m lu a
damned awkward position.”

“So are we all,” replied Kenneth, quite unmoved. “More-
over, this new development gives Tony a mcc, pure motive
for murdermg Arnold. Tell me, Tony, would you reallv
murder Arnold to protect Rudolph’s fair name^”

“Yes, of course I would!” said Antonia bristling. “1 don’t
mean that I approve of him embezzhng funds, because, as a
matter of fact, I think it’s a poor show, but I wouldn’t let
Arnold prosecute him if T could stop it. It it comes to that,
wouldn’t you have murdered him for Violet’s sake?”

“Don’t confuse the motives. 1 murdered him for the sike
of his money. You’ve got the noble motives and Rudolph’s
is the sordid one.”

“No mote sordid than yours!”

“Oh yes, darling' tomes under the *ame heading as cird-
sharping and shop-lifting.”

105

I 06 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

Giles interposed. “Shut up, Kenneth. None of this leads
an 3 rwhere, and it isn’t particularly pleasant for Mesuricr.
Were you out in your car on the night of the murder,
Mesuricr?”

Rudoph looked uncertainly from one to tlie other. “Don’t
be coy,” recommended Kenneth. “\\e all know you were
by this time.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I was,” Rudolph said, taking
the plunge, “'that’s what makes it so frightful.” He began
to walk jerkily up and down the studio. “NK hen tlut detec-
tive asked me, I denied it. I mean, what else could I do?
'They can’t pnvc I was out. It would be absolutely circum-
stantial c\idence, and it seemed to me my best plan was to
slick to ii that I was at liome. Only now yon " — he looked at
Giles — “say if 1 was out in my car 1 couldn’t have done the
murder, so . . .” lie stopped and gave a nervous hrtle
laugh. “So now J don’t know what to do.”

“With anv luck,” remarked Ktnneth, “we’ll *foist this
murder on to Rudolph.”

“J don’t call that furuiy,” said Mesutier stitH) .

“Depends on the pf/int of a lew. It would be much funnier
than having you as a brothcr-m-Liw.”

Antonia bounced up out ot her chair. “Damn you, shut
up ” she said Ijetcdy. “If it comes to that I’d a lot sooner
foist the murder on to Violet than have her as a sister-in law!
1 don’t see that Rudolph’s anj woisc than she is.”

“Thanlt you, dear,” said a smooth voice ftom the doorway .
“How sweet of you! And vihat am 1 supposed to hue
done?”

Kenneth sat up and swung his legs off the sofa. “Darling'.”
he said. “Come right in and join the party. A g(X)d time is
being had by all.”

Violet Williams still held the door-knob in one gloved
hand. She was charmingly dressed in a flowered frock and a

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

107

becoming pictiire-hat, and carried a sunshade. She raised her
plucked cycbro-ws and said; “Are you sure I -shan’t be

“You couldn’t be. Tony was only retaliating in kind
"V'ou loiow Giles, don’t you? Come and sit down, ducky, and
listen to the new revelations.”

Mesuner made a movement as of protest, but Antonia
very sensilily pointed out to him that Kenneth vas bound to
tell Viokc all about it anywaj, so he might as well get it
o've*. As Kenntth’s attention secn.ed for the moment to be
engaged by Violet, who had gone o%cr to the sof.i, and was
speaking to him in a low \r»iec, Nicsurier scired the oppor-
tunity to ask Ciiles wh^ his car should be supposed to con-
stitute an alibi.

“VC ell,” (iiles answered, “if jou murdered Arnold and
drotc back to Town m your own car, who disposed t>f
Arnold’s car^”

'i hib unfortunately caught Kenneth’s car and he instantly
said: “jVccomplice.”

*T hadn’t got an accom — mean — Oh, for God’s sake stop
shov'ing 3 our oar in'”

“An accomphee, if -you like,” said Giles. “But who?”

“'Tony, of coiusc.”

“Kenneth dear, you really oughtn’t to say things like that,
e\en in fun,” Violet reproved him gently.

Antonia, however, was inclined to regard her brother’s
suggestion with interest. “You mean we hatched the plot
between us, and I lured .\rnold to the stocks wdule Rudolph
followed in his own car and did him in? Ihat’s no use,
because I spent the night at the cottage, and 1 shouldn’t think
I’d have had time to burst up to town again with jVtnold’s
car and have motored back. Anyway I didn’t, so that’s out.
1 knew Giles would think of something

Mesurier drew a long breatli. “WTiat a fool J was not to

I 08 DEATH IH THE STOCKS

think of that myself! Thanks a lot. Of coiuse it absolutely
lets me out!”

“Oh no, it doesn’t!” said Kenneth. “You might have had
another accomplice, or tacked your own number-plate on to
Arnold’s car.”

“Too clever,” objected Antoma. “Rudolph would never
have thought of anythmg as wily as that, would you,
Rudolph?”

“That’s the worst of these people who set out to commit
a murder and leayc everything to chance,” said Kenneth.

Mesurier decided to ignore this, and, turmng to Giles,
asked him if he was sure the ahbi was good enough. Giles
rather damped his optimism by replying that he was not sute
of anything.

Violet, who had been playing idly with the clasp of her
handbag, raised her large, unfathomable eyes to Mesurier’s
fare, and asked in her well modulated voice why he had been
at Hanborough that mght. “Please don’t think Pm being
impertinent!” she said. “But 1 couldn’t help wondering. Tt
seems so funny of ) ou, somehow ”

It was plain that he^, question took him aback, quite plain
enough for Kenneth, who mounted on to the back of tlie
sofa and said: “Now, infidel, I Iiave you on the hip' ”

Mesurier cast him a look of goaded hatred and answered*
“I can’t see what that has to do with it.”

This somewhat weak rejoinder had the effect of setting
his betrothed against lum. Antoma said severely: “Giles
can’t possibly help you if you’re going to behave hke an
idiot. You must have had some reason for going to Han-
borough that night, and it merely makes you look very fishy
if you won’t say wliat it was.”

“Very well, then'” said Mesurier. “If you mil have it, [
went down with a mad idea of throwing myself on Vereker’s
generosity, but I thought better of it, and came back again.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

109

“The only thing I have to say is that I must have another
drink,” said Kenneth, getting off the sofa and sttolling over
to the sideboard. “The more I hear of Rudolph’s story the
mote convinced I am that we can push all the blood-guilt on
to him with very little trouble.” He measured out a whisky-
and-soda. “Anyone else have a drink?” As no one answered
he raised hts own glass to his bps, drank half the whisky,
and came back to the sofa. “The theory I’m workmg on at
the moment is that Arnold’s car never left London,’* he said.

Antonia frowned. “Yes, but that means he must have
motored down with Rudolph, and he wouldn’t have.”

“Of course he wouldn’t, and, considering all thmgs, who
shall blame him? The point is that Rudolph murdered him
first.”

“Oh, how ghastly!” shuddered Violet. “Please doif’t’”

Mesuricr was looking rather pale and very angry.

“Very clever'” he said. “And pray, hou do you account
for the fact that tliere arc no blocafetains in my car?”

Kenneth took another drink. “You wrapped the body m
an old mackintosh,” he rephed.

“Which he afterwards burned in his bedroom grate,”
interpolated Giles dryly.

“Oh no, he didn’t! He cut the maker’s name out of it, tied
It round a boulder and dropped it into the Hammer-pond
at Huxley Heath,” said Kenneth.

“That’s good,” approved TVntonia. ‘But you haven’t told
us how he managed to murder Arnold without bemg seen,
and get his body into the carl”

“When you have quite finished amusing y ourselves at my
expense,” said Rudolph furiously, “perhaps vou will allow
me to tell you that I very much resent your attitudel”

Antonia opened her eyes at him. ‘ T can’t see what on
earth there is to get annoyed about. After all, Arnold was
our relative, and if we don’t mind discussing the murder.

no DEATH IN THE STOCKS

why should you? We weren’t even going to be shitty about
it if you did do it,”

“It seems to me,” Rudolph said, his voice trembling a
little, “that I am to be cast for the r61e of scapegoat!’*

“I’m afraid,” said Giles in his calm way, “that you don’t
quite understand my cousins’ — er — purely intellectual interest
in the crime. If you’d prefet not to talk about it there’s no
sort of reason why you should.”

“iixeept, of course,” put in Kenneth, “that when I’m put
into the witness-box I shall be bound to say that 1 thought
your manner hellish secretive when we talked it over.’’

“You’re more likely to be in the dock,” said his sister
unkindly.

“In that case,” tephed Kenneth, finishing his whisk)^-
and-soda, “I shall bring in the cmbc?/lement S,7//i>e

qu! pei'l”

Mesurier thrust Ins hands into his pockets and^fo*tcd his
lips to smile. “I rather fancy a jury would see that occurrence
m a more reasonable light,” he remarked. “I don’t pretend
that I was justified in doing what 1 did, but theie’s no ques-
tion of — of theft. I’ve already paid back a great deal of what i
borrowed.”

“The point is, Arnold didn’t look at it in a reasonible hght
at all,” said Antonia.

“'There J take issue with you,” said Kenneth immediately.
“1 don’t hold any brief for Arnold, bur 1 can’t sec why he
should be expected to be pleasant about it. You can’t pmch
a man’s money, and then say', ‘Thank you for the loan’ and
pay it back in driblets. 1 don’t in the least blame Arnold for
cutting up rough, and, what’s more, no jury would either.
They’ll see that Rudolph’s got a motive for murder that
makes mine look childish.”

“I’m perfectly well aware that I’m in an awkward hole,”
Mesurier said. “But it’s no use you or anyone else trying to

DEATH IN IHI STOCKS

III

fasten the murder on to me I never owned a kn'fe like that
in my hfe, for one thmg, and for another ’

“ fust a moment,” interrupted Ciiles “ V knife like
what?”

A wave of colour mounted to Mci^uritr’s face, “A — a
knife capable of kilhng a man I mturalh absumc it must
have been some sort of a dagger I mtan, an oidinarv kmfc
could h^rdlv ”

'A ou saw Arnold Vcrekci after he wa, ek-d, ilielii’t )ou?”
saia tiiks

'Iherc w is a moment’s silence. Vi< let gicc a slmcr
“You’re r'?king me feel suk Do, do kt’o talk of son etking
else'”

‘A ou can’t be sick )ct, elarling Rudt'lph s go ng t( i nke
a full ei nfession ”

b'esuiic’‘’s ejts were ii\cd on Cn’cs’-. face, but at this he
\eikd them suddenh, anel put a h*nd to l>i breast pocket
and drew out his cig 'ictte-case He opened it, t( <k out a
cigarette, and pul it between his lips There w as a n.atch bos
on the table, and he walked over to pick il up. ‘ ^ es,” be
sud, lighting his cigareite Aou're t|uite r >bt [ did sve
Verckcr altct he was elead ”

“fust happened te> be passing tint wa} , ’ nodded Is enneth

“Jso I went down to \shki jh Giein or ] urpose le) see
him. Vthen I got to the Milage my he dlights lit up the
storks. Idieln'tlnov itv is 'rmildt en 1 vot our and went
to inspect ”

“And finehng it was Arnold, came home again ”

“Well, why not?” demanded Antonia. “If Vrnold wao
dead there was no point m staving ”

“He might have tiled to m something,” ^ lolet saiel in a
low voice. “He might have called foj. I 'Ip ”

“A womanly thought, sweetheart. Rudolph, why didn t
you?”

IIZ DEATH IN THE STOCKS

'*1 didn't want to get mixed up in it. 1 saw there was
nothing to be done.”

“What time was all this?” inquired Giles.

“I don’t know. I mean. I’m not sure. Somewhere between
twelve and one in the mornmg.”

“At which salubrious hour you were going to knock
Arnold up for a fiiendly chat,” observed Kenneth. “The
whole story seems to me to want revision. Personally I
should jettison it, and think out a new one. The moths have
got at this one pretty badly.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to knock Arnold up,” Mesuricr
said, throwing away his agarettc. “I’ve— I’ve been through
a pretty bad time over tius, 1 don’t mind tclhng you. Vereker
meant to ruin me. He could have, easily, pven if he didn’t
win his case, the mere fact of my being in such a case would
absolutely finish me. I — ^I was utterly desperate. Didn’t
know which way to turn. I knew Vereker was goipg down
to Riverside Cottage; I heard him tell Miss Miller so. Of
course, I was mad, but I meant to follow him there and shoot
him, making it look lilc a butglaty. I’d been to the cottage
once. I knew it was fairly remote, and I knew a place where I
could hide my cat. I thought — I broke into the place —
I could conceal myself behind the bookcase in the hall, and
when Vereker came down to investigate, I could shoot him
from there and make a getaway before anyone else came on
the scene. That’s my story, and if you don’t hke it you can
just do the other thing'”

“You’ve only to tell me what the other thing is and I’ll go
and do it at once,” promised Kenneth. “ Ihe story makes me
want to weep. My poor sister!”

“Yes, but there’s just one thing,” said Antonia seriously
“It’s so dam’ silly that people are quite likely to think it’s
true. Don’t you agree, Giles?”

“It’s quite possible,” said her cousin.

DEATH IN THE STOCKS II3

“Well, if that’s your opinion why not let us all in on it?”
said Kenneth. “Let’s all say we burgeoned off to kill Arnold,
but found someone else had done it for us.”

“I shouldn’t advise it,” replied Giles. “It’s not the sort of
story that bears being told a second time.”

“Second time!” exclaimed Kenneth scornfully. “It had
whiskers on it when Rudolph dug it up.”

“It happens to be true,” said Rudolph. “And it isn’t any
weaker than the story you told. Personally I thought that the
thinnest thing I’d ever heard.”

“Yes, 1 quite see that,” said Antonia, trying to be fair,
“but Kenneth’s story was a much better one, all the same,
Itccause you can’t disprove it, and it doesn’t place liim any-
where near Ashleigh firecn. 1 really don’t think much of
yours, Rudolph. Can’t you think of something ^better?
We’ll all help, won’t ■we?”

“Speaking for myself, no,” replied Giles.

“Then I think it’s pretty mouldy of you. Kenneth, what
do you think Rudolph had better say?”

“I won’t have a hand in it,” said Kenneth. “My first idea
was the best: let Rudolph be the scapegoat. It’s the best
solution all round. He’s only a nuisance as it is.”

“He may be a nuisance, but you needn’t think I’m going to
let him carry the blame for you!” Antonia flashed.

“Who said it was for me? ji\ren’t you in on this?”

Giles intert'cned once more, his eyes on his wrist- watdi.
“This is all very entliralUng, but may f remind you, Kenneth,
that I came here to talk of something quite different? I
suggest that we close this entirely arid discussion.”

“Certainly!” said Mesuticr, liis eyes smouldering. “I’m
leaving in any case. I may say that if I’d known the sort of
thing I was going to be treated to 1 should never have come.
Though I suppose I might have guessed! Oh, please don’t
trouble to show me out!” This last savagely polite remark

II4 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

was cast at Antonia, who, however, paid no heed to it, but
followed him into the hall, carefully shuttmg the door behmd
her.

Kenneth drifted back to the sofa. “\>lcll, with any luck
that ought to bust up the engagement,” he observed.

“What you need is kickmg,” rephed Giles, without
heat.

“Oh no, 1 don’t' \ou can’< pretend that you think it
would be a good thing for Tony to marry that sickcmii"-
hzaid. Besides, \’urgatro)d doi,sn’t like him ”

( arnngton, ’ said Viok t suddenly, “what did you
think of his story^”

lie glanced down at het “Nothing much. I’ve heard
mote improbable on< s ”

“Somehow 1 don’t like lum,” she said “And if he really
had nothing to do w ilh it v h) didn’t he call for help?

“Panic, V iss W illiims ”

She looked rather contemptuous. “Yes, I sujtposc so.
Pcr«on.xlly l’\e no use lor people who lose their heads m
emergencies ! )o t ou want to talk privately to Kenneth-*”

“Lord, no'” said Kenrctl. “It’s only about money How
much can 1 1^6,111105'”

“I’ll lend you what you want for your immediate needs,”
replied Giles.

‘lW you tryme to put the wind up me.-*” demanded
Kenneth. “Has an^hms gone wrong with the Will-*”

“No, notlung at all,” said (.nles. “But apart from the tact
that It wouldn’t look too well for vou to elraw on the estate
within three days of \rnold’s death, there’s a little formality
to be attended to before the executors will advance you any
money. W’e must prove Roger’s death. ’ ’

“W'hat a bore!’" said Kenneth. “How long is that hkelylo
take^”

“Not very long, T hope. How much do you want?”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS II5

“Would three hundred break you?” asked Kenneth
persuasively.

“I can just stand it. Til make out a cheque for that amount
now, and 5 ou can write a formal receipt while I’m doinq it.”

In the middle of this labour .^Vntoma came back into the
room and announced that Rudolph liad gone.

“Well, that’s one good thmg, anyway,” remarked Kcnnetli.
“Still adhering to his stort^?”

“He swears it’s pcrfecl ly true.”

“He’d better go and swear it to old 1 lannas) de and see how
he lakes it. You’ve got lo have faith to swallow a chestnut
like that.”

“I must sa\ I tliought it -Mas prettv fatuous myself,”
admitted Antonia. “I didn’t hke to pour much more srorn
on It, though, because he was a trifle ruffled. The trouble is,
he doesn’t altogether undei stand us when we speak, Kenneth ”

Giles looked up, half smiling- ‘Rather a cute dis-
advantage, in a life partner, Tony.”

“I knov . It occurred to me about half an liout ago. J do
hope I haven’t made another mistake.”

“It would be rather diflicult for the average nun to under
stand you vhen you speak, as you call it,” said Violet. “I
must say, 1 think a great many of y our icmarks are extremely
odd, to say the least of it.’’

“Bless you, darling,” said Kenneth, blotting Ins receipf.
“^hat a commonplace mind thete behind that lovely
face'”

She flushed. “If you think me conmionplace 1 wonder you
want to marry me.”

“I’ve explained it to you before, my sweet. I worship
beauty.”

“Yes, so you sav, but I notice that d( c^n’t hinder you from
running after perfectly' ordinary-lookuig girls like Leslie
Rivers.”

H6 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

“Jealous little cat,” he xetnatked. 'Tve kno'wn Leslie fox
years, lliete you are, Giles. I’ll pay it back as soon as I
touch. Thanks, by the ■way. I can now buy you a •vulgar ring,
beloved.”

“I don’t ■want a -vulgar ring, I can assure you. Simply
because I happen to prefer diamonds to any other stone ”

“You sh^ have a slab of a diamond, my pet. A large,
table-cut one, which no one could possibly suppose a fake
because it’s so impiobable.”

“Are you going to blue the whole of that on a ring?”
inquired Giles.

“1 should think so,” replied Kenneth. “Because if I’m the
heir the bills can wait over. And when I get my hands on the
Vereker fortune, Violet, you shall have a string of pearls as
well, and some carved jade ear-rings. How’s that?”

“I shall love the pearls, but I don’t know that I cate
awfully for jade. "V ou see such a lot of it about.”

“G<id help the poor wcndi!” groaned Kenneth?

Giles screwed on the cap of his fountain-pen. “Postpone
hostilities till I’ve gone,” he requested. “You haven’t
forgotten it’s the Inquest to-morrow, liave you, Tonj?”

“As a matter of fact, T had, but 1 remember now that you
mention it. You said you’d run me down in your cat. Do you
mind if I bring one of the dogs?”

“Yes, T do. I’ll call for you round about ten o’clock.
Show me out, please. Good bye. Miss Williams: so long,
Kenneth.”

Antonia took him out into the hall. “Giles, I’ve made the
most shattering discovery,” she said awe-inspiringly.

“Good God, Tony, what is it?” he asked, amused.

“Rudolph and Violet. Soul-mates. I can’t think why I
didn’t realize it before. They’ve got the same type of mind.
Do you think I ought to point it out to them?”

“No, 1 don’t,” he said firmly. *T should leave them to find

DEATH IN THE STOCKS Iiy

it out for themselves. Do you really mean to marry Mcsurier?’

“Well, I thought I did,” she replied, wrinkling her brow.
“He caa be awfully attractive, you know, though I must say
he doesn’t shine much under adversity.”

“Tony, you impossible brat, are you in the least in love
with him?”

“I don’t quite know,” said Antonia sadly. “To tell you the
truth, Giles, I’m not at all sure what being in love is like. I
thought I was at one time, but I seem to have gone off
Rudolph a bit lately. It’s really very difficult.”

“I should give him the push if I were you,” he recom-
mended.

“No, you wouldn’t. Not when he’s in trouble,” said
Antonia.

“Tlien the sooner be gets out of trouble the better.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “But the question is, will he get out of
it? 'fhat car alibi is all very well, but the more you think of it
the more you can’t help suspecting that there’s a snag in it if
only you cotild find it. You know, this rotten murder’s
beginning to be a scourge instead of a blessing. Who did it,
Giles? I^ve you got any idea?”

“No, none at all, I have a feeling that we aren’t anywhere
near the truth yet. It wouldn’t surprise me if something
totally unexpected cropped up suddenly.

“Oh, why?” she aske^ interested.

“I don’t know,” said Cfiles (^arringtt n. “Just a pricking in
my toes.”

CHAPTER XI

The Inquest, held at Hanborough next morning, was not
productive of any new evidence. Antonia professed herself
frankly disappointed, though she listened with interest to the
news that the murdered man’s hands had borne traces of
having done some repair on a car. VCEen it was disclosed that
the spare wheel on Arnold Vereker’s car was flat, and showed
a bad puncture, she leaned towards her cousin and whispered:
“That dishes Kenneth’s theory, anyway.”

She gave her own evidence with a cheerfulness which,
combined with the absence of decent mourning, rather
shocked the members of the jurj^ To Giles Carrington’s
relief she was not at all truculent. She answered the Coroner
with a friendliness which was due, as she afterwards explained
to Giles, to his likeness to the veterinar)' surgeon who had
attended Juno’s last Swcouchemeat.

It was evident that neither the Coroner nor the jury kne\v
what to make of her, but her unconventional attitude towards
Superintendent Hannasyde, whom she greeted, when he rose
to put a question to her, as an old and valued acquaintance,
made quite a good impression.

Rudolph Mesurier was not called, not was his name
mentioned, and the proceedings terminated, as had been
foreseen, in a verdict of Murder against a Person or Persons
Unknown.

Coming out of the Court-room Giles Carrington fell in
beside Hannasyde, and murmured per^vely: “It’s the perfect
crime. Superintendent.”

Hannasyde’s slow smile crept into his eyes. “Nasty case,
isn’t it? What’s happened to your disarming client?”

ii8

DEATH IN THL STOCKS

119

“Gone to the Police Station,” replied Giles, with complete
gravity, “to give Sergeant— Fm afraid Fve forgotten his
name, but he breeds Airedales — an infalhble prescription for
the cure of eczema. Mesuner turned out (o be a bit of a red
herring, didn’t he?”

“Oh, you spotted the snag, did you>” returned the Super-
intendent. “1 thought you would. I’m s itishcd by the way,
that he was not in his rooms between twelve and two that
night, but at first glance that doesn’t stem to help much
Sergeant Hemingway here, however” — ^lie ind'ratcd his
Isright-eted suborchnatc —“thinks there might be a wa^ out
ot It. \\ e shall see ”

“Several ways,” said titles, nodding to tlie Sergeant. “W i
discussed them all < d nauseam last night J)Ut, speaking f
.n\sJf, I don’t like the idea of an accompliic ”

■ No, sir,” said the Sergeant mstantly. “no m a i mrJer
ree. 'I hat’s what 1 sa>. }5ut that isn’t to s iv jt loaldn’t have
l)tcn done without, not by a long chalk ”

Giles was looking at Hannasyde “h on don * much fai’cs
\’csuner, do you-^” he said.

“I don’t know that i f^ncy anvbodv much,” liiswcrcJ
llannas\dc. “t)ne thing scenes liirli cettim, llioy »h
Whoever murdered \rnold \ creker w es i\ci’ cool e'evet
customer.”

“I rather think that rules out Mesutier then,” saiu ‘ iiks.
“lie’s neither cool nor clever ”

“You can’t go by how hr acts now, >it ,” s lul he Sergea it.
“Some of the wiliest ol ’em li a J i ou up l lu orchard by nnk'pn-
out thcs’ie so silly thev couldn’t lieid on i hlarl beetle with-
out carrying bits of it all over the house for hours after He
was cute enough, the wav he cooked the Comp my accounts ”

Giles took out his iigiicttccase i 'd opened it. “HI
carefully planned,” he said. “Not done in the heat of the
moment.”

420 , DKArH IN THE STOCKS

The Superintendent nodded, but Sergeant Hemingway
pursed up b's lips. “It looks like it was cold-blooded,” he
said, “but you can go astray on that line of reasoning. Some
people lose their heads when tbey’re all worked i:^, but there’s
others as don’t. Seem to get needle-sharp. Same efiect as
taking a pinch of cocaine — ^not that I’ve ever done so, but
that’s the effect they say it has. Comes in psychology — ^which
the Superintendent here doesn’t hold with.”

Hannasyde smiled, but declined the gambit. His shrewd
grey eyes were on Giles’s face. “What have you got up your
sleeve, Mr. Carrington? Are you going to spring something
new on us?”

“Oh, no!” said Giles. “But I became prophetic yesterday,
and the fit hasn’t passed yet. Sometliing is going to turn up.”

'1 he Sergeant was interested. “Kind of premonit ion?”

“Premonition'” snorted the Superintendent. “A very safe
bet! Of course something’s going to turn up. A 1^1 hope is
that it’ll have an alibi I can check up on, and won’t have spent
the night walking to Richmond, or in bed with a headache, or
alone in somebody else’s house'”

Giles’s eyes were ahght. “I’m afraid you’re feeling ruffled.
Superintendent.”

Hannasyde laughed and held out his hand. “Can you
wonder at it? I must be getting along now. That minx of a
client of yours! The idea of saying ‘Oh, hullo!’ to me in
Court! Did she teU ymu we parted yesterday not on the best of
terms? You can warn that young brother of hers, if you like,
that it isn’t always wise to be too clever with the police.
Good-bye'” j *

They sljjOOili hands. “Come to my chambers, and smoke a
cigar this evening, and talk it over,” invited Giles. “Without
prejudice, you know.”

“Without prejudice I will, gladly,” replied Hannasyde.
“Thanks!”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS IZI*

On tihis tbey patted, Hannasyde and t±ie Sergeant to catch a
tram, Giles to extricate his cousin from the Pohce Station, and
take her to have lunch before motormg back to tovm.

She was m a cheerful mood, and appeared to consider
herself safely out of the -wood. Giles disillusioned her, and
she at once declared that to arrest her now would be an
extremely dirty tnek, and one of which she did not belicvt
Supenntendent Hannasyde capable.

“Except for an occasional brush we don’t get on at all
badly,” she said. “In fact, I think he quite hk.es me ”

“Ihat won’t stop him doing what he beheves to be his
duty.”

“No, but I don’t think I’m really one of his suspects,” said
7\ntonia. “He’s got his eye more on Kenneth, or, rather, he
had till Rudolph cropped up. I wish I could make up mv
mind about Rudolph, by the w,i} ”

“Whether to marry him or not? Let me help you ”

“Oh no, not that' As a matter of fact,” she added candidly,
“I shouldn’t be surprised if he called the engagement oil
He was considerably peeved last mght, you know What I
meant was, did he do it, or not?”

“You know him better than I do, T onv. It doesn’t look as
though he did.”

“No, but I’m not so sure. I didn t thuik he’d be so rattled,
somehow. Because the only time I’ve ever seen him in a tight
comer, which was when a motor lorr shot out of a side
turmng one day, he was as cool as a ucumber and com
pletely and utterly cfhaent. 'Ihat was partly wnv I lell for
lum The ordinary person would liave jammed^n his brakes
and we’d have been smashed into, but he just on the
accelerator, and sort of skunined by in a huge si mcircle, and
then went on with what he’d been say mg before it happened ”
Giles was unimpressed “The biggest ass of my acquam
tance IS an expert driver,” he said. “It’s one thmg to keep your

itz

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

head at the wheel of a car, and quite another to keep it when
confronted by the shadow of the gallows, so to speak. My
own impression of your elegant young man is that he wouldn’t
— to put it vulgarly — ^have had the guts to do it.”

‘"I hat’s what I’m not sure about,” said Antonia, quite
unresentful of this slur upon her betrothed’s character. “His
mother was foreign — at least, halt, because she had an Italian
father or mother or somethmg — and occasionally Rudolph
reverts a bit. He has white rages. You never know wnh
people like that. They might do anything. Of course, tliat
story he told might have been true, though 1 admit it sounded
thin, but, on the other hand, it might be a masterpiece of low
cunning. Same as me now. For all you know I’m being
cunning talking hke this.”

“Yes, that had occurred to me,” agreed ( dies.

“Ketmeth too,” pursued his cousin. “Kenneth won’t sat
one way or the other, because partly, T think, he’s enjoying
himseli, and partly he holds tliat it’s no use saying he didn’t
do it, because naturally he’d be bound to say that. But 1 ’ll tell
you one tlung, Coles.” She paused, frowning, and when he
looked inquiringly at her, said in a serious tone: “Jf it w-is
Kenneth I'll bet every penny I’ve got no one’ll ever lind it
out.”

“I shouldn’t, Tony.”

“liS cll, I w’ould. Because generally murderers get found
out because they did sejmething stily, or left some important
detail to chance. Kenneth never does.”

“My dear girl, Kenneth is hopelessly casual.”

“Oh no, he’s not! About things that he doesn’t think
matter he may be, but when he gets interested in anything, or
thinks something wtjrth while, he concentrates on it in a dark
and secret way which Murgatroyd says is like out grandfather
— not the Vereker one, but the other. By the way, ought he
to go to the funeral?”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 1*5*

“Yes, of coucse. He must.”

“Well, that’s what Murgattoyd and Violet say. It’s about
the only thing they’ve ever agreed on. But Kenneth says no.
He sa^ s it worild be artistically wrong. However, I’ll tell him
what you think.”

Her method of conveying this information was char-
acteristic, and wholly lacking in tact. Set down at the
entrance to the mews shortly before four o’clock, she ran up
the outside stairway to tlie front door, let herself into the flat,
and went at once to the studio. I^ndctorred by the presence
not only of Violet Wilhams, but of I.cshc Rivets, who was
curled up on the divan watching Kcnnetli at work, and of a.
tall, fair man m the early thirties, who v as smolung a cigarette
in Ae window-embrasure, she said: “It was a rotten Inquest,
so you didn’t miss anything. But Giles says of courfc you
must show up at the funeral, Kenneth. Hullo, Leslie! Hullo,
Philip, I didn’t see you. Has anyone taken the dogs out?”

“\e8, I did,” replied Leslie, m her slow, serious way.
“You asked me to.”

“WeU, thanks. Giles says you can hire the proper clothes.”

“I daresay, but 1 won’t,” replied Kenneth, somewhat
inarticulately, because he was holding a paint-brush between
his lips. “Get rid of these iieoplc, will jou? Ihey flunk
they’ve come to tea.”

“They may as well stay, then,’' said Antoni i

“Is that a vague instinct of hospitalit , or mere supineness?”
inquired Philip Courtenay.

“Supineness. What have you come for, anywav'-*”

“Curiosity. Moreo\er, mv dear, l’\e been interviewed
by a bird-like policeman in plain clothes vtho asked me the
most embarrassing questions about A.rnold’s private aflairs.
I can’t be too thankful I rcbnquishei ’’le post of secretary
when I did.”

“Well, at least, Eaton Place was more or less bearable

5

124

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

when you were there,” said Antonia. ‘‘How’s Maud? And
the babjf?”

“Both very fit, thanks. Maud sent her love.”

Violet said: “But do tell us! What did the detective want to
know?”

“Hidden scandals. I hinted that subsequent secretaries
might be of more use to him, but it transpired that the
longest tenure of olfice since my departure had been five
weeks, so that wasn’t much use.”

Kenneth removed the brush from his mouth. “Sub-
sequent secretaries is good,” he remarked. “Had Arnold got
a w;<?”

“Dozens, I believe, but out of my ken. I wasn’t as private
as that.”

“1 don’t qmte understand,” Violet said, fixing her eyes on
his face. “Do the police suspect a crime pa^sioiineR”

“ ‘He done her wrong’ moftf*' said Kenneth, jerewing up
his eyes at the canvas before him. “What sordid minds
policemen have!”

“Blackmail,” said (..ourtenay, looking round for an ash-
tray, and finally throwing tlie stub of lus cigarette out of the
window. “Seventy pounds and a seedy stranger were the
main subjects of my policeman’s discourse. T was regretfully
unable to throw light.”

“I object!” Kenneth said. “I won’t have seedy strangers
butting in on a family crime. It lowers the "whole tone of the
thing, which lias, up to now, been highly artistic, and in some
ways even precious. Go away, Murgatroyd: no one w'ants any
tea.”

“You speak for yourself. Master Kenneth, and let others do
likewise,” replied Murgatroyd, who had come into the studio
with her usual purposeful tread, and was ruthlessly clearing
the table of its load of impedimenta. “Well, Miss Tony, so
you’re back, I see. Where’s Mr. Giles?”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

I2S

“He wouldn t come in. He sa 3 rs Kenneth will have to go
to the funeral, by the way ”

“There’s others could have told him diat. Ajid a decent
suit of blacks,” said Murgatroyd cryptically.

“Be damned to you; I won’t.”

“lhat’s quite enough from you, Master Keimeth, thank
you. You’ll be chief mourner, what’s more. Don’t put any of
vour nasty wet brushes down on tlie tablecloth, and not that
smelly tutps neither.”

“Kenneth,” said J.cslic Rivers, “could T ha%c the sketch^”

He glanced down at her, lus brilliant shghtly inhuman
gaze soficnmg. “You can ”

“Thanks,” she said.

“You really ought not to give jour sketches away,” said
Violet, ovcrhcaiing this interchange. “I mean, of course, as a
gcneialrulc. 'fhej maj become <|mtc valuable one day.”

“VC ho cares^” s.iid Kenneth, wiping his bruslies.

Leslie flushed, and said grurilj: “Sorry, f didn’t think

He smiled lovingly at her, but said notlnng. Violet got up,
and shaking out her skirt, said gracutusly: “Oh, natmallj', it’s
different with such an old fiicnd as jou, dear Shall I pout
out, Tony', or would j’ou rather^”

“Anyone can pour out as far as I’m concerned,” said
/Vntonia, with complete mdiffercmc. “\\c may as well h.nc
tlie loaf in wlule we're about it, Muigatroyd. Til come and
get it.”

She went out and was followed m a tew mome its by I.esl e
Rivers, who came into the kitchen, and said unhappily: “1
hate her and hate her.”

Neither Antonia nor l\iuigatrojd experienced the least
difficulty in interpreting this remark. Alurgalroyd set the
loaf down on the wooden hre-ad-boaro ' ffi a tliud. “Her'”
she said darkly. “Doing the hostess all over our flatl A
beauty, is she? Well, handsome is as handsome does, and

126

DEATH IM THE STOCKS

brown eyes ate what I never did trust and never will, not
without more reason than I’ve had yet”

“I shouldn’t mind — at least not nearly as much— if only I
thought she’d look after him, and understand about his
painting,” prusued Miss Rivets. “But I can’t see that she
cares about anything except being admired, and having the
best of everything.”

“Ah!” said Murgatroyd, emerging from the pantry to
collect an errant knife, “still waters run deep. You mark my
words!”

“Yes,” agreed Leslie, when Murgatroyd had vanished
again. “But she doesn’t run deep. She’s purely mercenary,
and she’ll hurt Kenneth.”

“Not she,” replied Antonia. “He knows she’s a money-
grubber. Kennctli isn’t extraordinarily vulnerable, as a
matter of fact.”

Mi.ss Rivers blew her nose rather fiercely. “Sjje’s the sort
that would wear away a stone,” she said. “Quiet persistence.
Hard and told and calculating. And even if I dyecl my hair it
wouldn’t do any good.” With which sibyllic utterance she
picked up the bread board and mardied back to the studio.

From the pantry doorway iVlurgatroyd watched her go, and
remarked that that was what she called a lady. “Why Ma-stet
Kenneth can’t see what’s been under lus nose ever since you
was all of you in the nursery is what beats me,” she declared.
“A proper little wife Miss I eshe would make liim, but that’s
men all over. \X'hat happened at that Inquest, Miss Tony?”

“Oh, pretty much what (.dies said. It was very dull, and
they brought in a verdict of Murder against Person or Persons
Unknown. The Superintendent’s going to go and have a
friendly talk with Giles this evening, so probably Giles wiU
put in a good word for us.”

“H’m!” said Murgatroyd grimly. “I don’t doubt that’s
what he thinks, but it’s a lot likelier that policeman will get

DEATH IN THE STOCKS ^Z^

him talking about the fuoily, and go £astening on to some-
thing that’ll land us all in gaoL”

“Good lord!” said Antonia. “I didn’t know there was
anything.”

“There’s alwa 3 rs something if you look for it,” replied
Murgatroyd. “And the more smooth-spoken the police are
the mote you want to mistrust them. Always on the look-out
to trip you up. Cat and mouse, they call it.”

The simile, as apphed to Superintendent Hannasyde and
Giles Carrington, was not sttikingly apt, nor, if Giles was full
of mistrust and Hannasyde on the watch for an unguarded
temark, were these respective attitudes at all apparent when
Giles’s servant ushered the Superintendent into the comfort-
able book hned sitting-room that evening. Hannasyde said as
he shook hands* “Nice of you to ask me to look in. 1 envy
vou your quarters. They tell me you can’t get one of these
1 emple flats for love or money nowadays.”

Murgatroyd might have detected a siiuster trap in these
seemingly harmless remarks, but Giles Carrington accepted
them at their face-value, invited the Superintendent to sit
down in one of the deep leather chairs, and supphed him with
a drink and a dgar. He had been idly engaged on a chess
problem when his visitor arrived, and the sight ot the board
(»n the table, with a few pieces set ojit, naturally inspired
Hannasyde, also a humble follower of the game, to inspect the
problem narrowly. There was no toon 'or any other thought
in either man’s head until Black had bcwii succes^‘^ully mated
m the requisite three mo\ es, but when this had been worked
out, the pieces put aw ay, a few che ss reminiscences exchanged,
the scarcity of really keen players deplored, a pause ensued
and Giles said: “Well, what about this tiresome murder? Is it
going to be an unsolved crime?’'

“Nqt if I can help it,” replied Hannasyde. “It’s early days
yet— though I won’t deny that I don’t altogether like tlie look

128 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

of it.” He scrutinized the long ash on the end of his dgar,
debating whether to tip it off or to wait a little longer.
“Hemingway — the chap with me to-day — ^is feeling ag-
grieved.” He smiled. “Says there oughtn't to be any mystery
about the murder of a man like Vereker. You expect to be
baffled when it’s a case of some unfortunate girl being taken
for a ride and bumped off, but wht n a prominent City man is
stabbed it ought to be fairly plain sailing. You have what
Hemingway calls the full decor. His hobby is amateur
theatricals — ^it’s the worst thing I know of liini. \\ cll, we’\e
got plenty of decor, and we've got diamatis persona:, and the
net result” — lie paused, and at last tipped off tlie ash of his
cigat — “is that vc seem most of the time to have got mixed
up in a ( hekov plaj instead of the i (Igar AX'all iCe we thought
wc w ere engaged for.”

Ciilcs gimncd. “M) deplorable cousins. I’m really veiy
sorry about it. It would be interesting to know what jou
make of them.”

“I haven’t the least objeaion to telling vou that [ don’t
know what to make of them,” replied llnnnasyde calmiv.
“On the face ot it, things point young Vereker’s wa\. I’hc
motive is tlicrc, the opportumty is there, and unk ss I’m very
much mistaken in mj reading of ins character, the ncivc *s
there, too.”

“I agree with you,” said Giles.

“Yes,” said Ilannasjdr, with a kind of grim humour. “[
know ) ou do, 1 hn pcriectlv wxll aware that you’re as much in
the dark over liim as I am, and equally well aware that you
think things look rather black for him. Well, they do, but I’ll
be quite frank with you: 1 wouldn’t apply for a v^arrant for
that young man’s arrest until I had a cast-iron case against
him. His story is the weakest I’ve ever had to listen to — ^aiid I
w'ouldn’t let him tell it to a jury for anything you could offer
me. Which reminds me, by the way, that Mesurier came up to

DEATH IN THE STOCKS I29

see me at the Yard this afternoon, with yet another weak story.
But I daresay you know about that.”

“I believe I know the story, but I didn’t know he’d been to
sec you.”

“Oh yes!” said Hannsayde. “He went down to tliat cottage
to shoot Vereker, but found him already dead, so returned to
town. XI^Tiat I should really welcome would be some
suspicious character with a good, strong, probable alibi. I
believe it would be easier to disprove. Hemingway fancies
Mesurier more tlian I do. He will have it the man’s a dago.
I’ve set him to work on that car alibi, but I don’t myself see a
way round it. So leaving Mesurier out of it for the time being,
we’re left with a chauffeur whose alibri don’t altogether tmst,
as it’s supplied by his wife, but whom I don’t really think had
sufficient motive to murder Vereker; with one unknown man
who visited Vereker on Saturday, possibly with the idea of
blackmail (and blackmailers don’t kill the goose that lays the
golden eggs); and with Miss Vereker and her brother.” He
slopped and drank some of the whisky-and-soda in his glass.
“Taking Miss Vereker first,” he continued, “if I were to set
the facts down on paper, and show them to any one man, I
should think he’d wonder why I haven’t had her arrested on
suspicion long since. But so fat I’ve nothing to show that she
murdered her brother, and that particular kind of candour she
treats me to, which looks at first glance to be so damning, is
the sort of candour that would get her off with ninety-nine
juries out of a hundred. Mesutier’s type — ^trying to conceal
facts he thinks might tell against him, contrai'eting himself,
hedging — ^is fat easier to deal with. Ask him if he quarrelled
with Vereker, and he says he would hardly call it a quarrel —
with any number of people ready to swear that they heard him
quarreling. Ask Miss Vereker whether she got on with her
lialf-brother, and she says she hated the sight of him. She
doesn’t appear to conceal a thing. It’s the same with her

IJO *|>.SATR IM THE STOCKS

bcotheR you don’t know whether they’re "very devei; or
completely innocent, or a pair of lunatics.”

“I can set your mind at rest on one point: diey*te quite
sane,” said Giles. “And since you’ve been so frank with me —
admitting what I’ve known from the start — ^I’U tell you in
return that Miss Vereker, who knows her brother as well as
anyone, is wilhng to bet her whole fortune that if he com-
mitted the murder it will never be proved against him.”

The Superintendent’s eyes had twinkled appreciatively at
one part of this speech, and he replied at once: “That piece of
information ought to be very useful — ^to Miss Vereker, if not
to me. But I’m too old a hand to accept it quite as you’d hke
me to.”

Giles got up to replenish both glasses. “As a matter of feet,
I didn’t mean it hke that at all,” he confessed. “Whatever I
ma^ or may not tlimk about Kenneth, 1 am quite convinced in
niy own mmd that his sister liad nothing whatsoever to do
with it.” *

“Tliat doesn’t surprise me at all,” said Hannasyde dryly.
“Moreover, I very much hope you’re right — ^for both your
sakes.”

Giles handed him hi' glass without comment. A sb'ghf
flush had crept up under Ids tan, and the Superintendent,
repenting, said with superb inapproptiateness: “And why —
perhaps the most important question of all — was the body
placed in the stocks?”

CHAFfER XU

Giles Carrington, in the act of raising his glass to his lips,
lowered it again, and looked down at the Superintendent with
a startled frown. “Yes, of course, that's an important point,”
he said. “Stupid of me, but I really don’t think T’ve con-
sidered it. Does it mean anything, I wtmder^”

“Yes, I think so,” said Hannasyde. "V^ithout going to the
length of searching for some obscure incident in Vereker’s
past which had a bearing on stocks, I imagine that there must
have been some reason for putting the body there.”

“Unless it was the murderer’s idea of humoui,” said Giles,
before he had time to stop himself.

The two pairs of eyes met. Giles f'arnnt'ton’s quite
limpid and expressionless, the Superintendent’s foil of a kmd
of amused comprehension.

“Quite so,” said Hannasyde. “I’d already tliought of that.
And now I’m going to be really frank. It's the kind oi
humour I can easily imagine young Vereket indulging m.”

Giles smoked for a moment in silence. Then he said: “No.
I’m speaking now merely as one who— to a certam extent —
knows Kenneth Vereker. It may be helpful to y ou. Kenneth
would not place his half-brother’s b< dy in the stocks as a
senseless practical joke. If he did it, it would be f ir some very
good, and probably rather subtle reason. Tliat is my honest
opinion.”

-The Superintendent nodded. “All right. But you’ll admit
you can visualize circumstances under wliich he might have
done it.”

“Yes, I’ll admit that. But you’re assuming that the body
was placed there after death.”

13 ^

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

*‘At the moment I am, because it seems the more likely
hypothesis.”

“No blood on the grass round the stocks,” Giles reminded
him.

“There was very little external bleeding — and no signs of
any struggle,” replied Ilannasyde. “So that if you incline to
the theory that Vereker was stabbea after his feet were put in
the stocks you must work on the assumption that he sat there
quite willingly. Now the time was somewhere between
eleven at niglit, or thereabouts, and two o’clock in the
morning, know from the medical evidence that Vereker
can’t have been drunk. Does it seem to you credible that he
should choose that hour of night to try what sitting in the
stocks felt like — ^when he could have done it any day he
happened to be in the village?”

“No, I can’t say it docs,” admitted Giles. “Though I can
conceive of situations where it might be entirely cicdible.”

“So can 1,” agreed I lannasydc. “If he was motorfng down
with a gay party after the theatre, and they were all in a light-
hearted mood. (V c\cn if he was with one person alone,
whom we’ll assume to nave been a woman. know he had
a puncture on tlic wav doAvn; suppose he picked it up at
Ashleigh Careen; and afttr changmir the tyre sat clown on the
bench to admiic the moonlight, oi tr^ol off, or anjlhing else
you like. I can picture him being induced to put his feet in the
stocks, but wlial T can’t picture is the w’^oman then stabbing
him. It can’t have been \iiss Vereker, for whatever I dis-
believe about he r I entirely believe that she was on the worst
possible terms with her half brother. Very well, then, was it
some lady of easy virtue motoring down to spend the week-
end with him at his cottage^”

“Quilt* likely,” Chiles said. “I sec what’s coming, though,
and I confess I can’t offer a solution.”

“Of course you sec it. What should induce any such

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

133

woman to murder him? YouVe seen the knife. It’s a curious
sort of dagger — ^might have come from Spain, or South
America. Not the sort of thing you carry about with }ou m
the normal course of events. 1 hat proves the murder was
premeditated.’’

“Some woman who had a grudge against him/’ suggested
Giles.

“Must have been a pretty large siye in grudges,” said
Ilaiuiasydc. “And one, morco\er, that Verekci didn’t set
mucli store by. If he’d done any woman an injury big enough
to give her a motive for cold bloc'ded nuuder, do you
suppose he would quite unsuspectingly ha\c put hin self into
a helpless p<Jsition at her instigation?”

“No. On the whole he had rather a suspicious nature,”
replied Cdlcs. “And in justice to a somewhat maligned man
I’m bound to say that T don’t think he would have done a
woman any serious injury. He was amoious, but not un-
generous to his fancies, and not unkindly.”

“lhat’s rather the impression 1 gathered/’ said Ilannasydc.
“I don’t rule out the possibility of an unknown wonian in the
case — but my dejurtment hasn’t been idle, you Imow, and so
far we can’t discover any woman W’^ho had the least reason for
v^anting to murder Verckcr. I don’t mmd telling you that wc
checked up on several, too. 'Jhat shabby stratigcr the butlci
described to us made me thinlc there might be some w’^oman
who’d been got into trouble, because tnerc’s a smell of black
mail about that odd visit, but I haven’t discovered anything of
the kind, (^n the contrary’*, Vereker seems to have been pretty
decent, and his women were the sort who can look after
themselves.”

Giles sat down on the arm of his chair. “Yes, I should think
they were. Arnold w*as no fool. And I’r 1 ready to admit that
you’ve made it seem highly improbable that the murder was
done after Arnold was in the stocks. But do jdu mind

*l}4 XJBATH IN THB STOCKS

looking at the other side of the picture? Does it seem to you
probable that having stabbed a man to death the murderer
conveyed his body to the stocks — ^the most conspicuous place
he could well thi^ of— and arranged it carefully in a natural
position there, which I imagine must have been not only a
gruesome but also a somewhat diflicult task? Impossible for
Miss Vereker to have done it; too macabre for Mcsurie^ too
senseless for Kenneth.”

“It may not have been senseless,” said Ilannasyde. He
glanced at his wrist- watch, and got up. “That’s what I’ve got
to try and find out — amongst other things. By the way,
we’ve been trying to trace those notes Vereker had on him the
day he was killed. You remember we found the counterfoil
of a cheque for a hundred pounds drawn to self, and only
thirty pounds in his pocket? Well, only one of these has come
in, to date, and that one is a ten pound note which a man in a
blue suit handed to a waiter at the Trocadero Grill hyiayment
of his bill for dinner on Saturday evening. The suit might
have been a dark grey, 1 may mention, and the waiter really
couldn’t call the gentleman’s face to mind, because there were
a lot of people dining tnat night. You can’t say we policemen
get mudi help' J,ook here, 1 must be going! Many thanks for
by far the most pleasant hours I’ve spent on this case yet.”

Giles laughed. “Well, I hope they’U prove to have been
profitable ones.”

“You never know,” said Hamiasydc. “It’s always good to
get another point of view.”

Mr. Charles Carrington, hearing something of the visit
next day from his son, paused in Jus search for the pencil he
distinctly remembered placing on his desk not five minutes
earlier, and said: “Absurd! You can’t run with the hare and
hunt with the hounds, or if you can you shouldn’t.
An Eversharp pencil — you must have seen me use it
hundreds of times! Use your eyes, Giles! Use your eyes! So

2>BATH IN THE STOCKSv IJ5

Superintendent Ilannasyde doesn’t know what to make of
those Veieker btats? Now I come to think of it the boy
baffled me too. More in iiim than I thought. God bless my
soul, a pencil can’t walk away!”

Kenneth, getting wind of Hannasyde’s visit, loudly en-
dorsed his uncle’s verdict, adding a nder to the effect that if
there was any double-crossing going on he should im-
mediately change his solicitor. When Giles gave every
evidence of regarding such a happening m the light of a
Utopian dream, he forgot his original complaint in pointmg
out his own virtues as a client. He was m one of his more
incalculable moods at the time, and his cousin's somewhat
unwise rejoinder that the vaunted virtues liad escaped his
notice provoked him to give a trenchant resume of lus own
case. He walked up and down the studio, with his ejss very
bright, and witli what A.ntonia called his Jt-smile on lus bps,
and held his cousin partly m dismay, partly m admiration, of
the ingenuity with which he poslulatcd various fantastic ways
in wluch he might, had he been feeling like it at the tunc, have
murdered his half-brother.

\^ith the Superintendent’s remarks in mind, Cdles de-
manded a leason for putting Arnold Verckcr’s body in the
stocks. I he result of this, though entertaining, i\ as not help-
ful, for Ts.eanetli threw himself into whjl he conceived to be
the spirit of tlie inquiry with huge 7esr, and, ab.iudomng the
dramatisation of himself as the murdcicr, advanced a quintity
of the most astonishing theories, n<,t the lea'-t biilhant of
which involved the reputation of the Vicar of Ashlcigh
Citeen, a gentleman entirely unknown to him.

Giles gave it up. 'J'hcre was nothing to be made of
Kenneth, who, if he were indeed playing a dangerous game,
obviously preferred (and Giles couki only applaud bis
wisdom) to plav it alone.

A more immediately pressing anxiety than the question of

136 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

whether or not he was guilty of murder was, in the estimation
of his entourage, the problem of how to induce him to attend
Arnold Vereket’s funeral. Exhaustive, and at limes heated,
discussions, into wliich Giles was dragged, raged throughout
the evening, Murgatroyd, Violet, Leslie and Giles being
banded upon the side of respectability, against Kenneth, who
was suppoited by his sister, and lus ov,n quite irrefutably
logical arguments. The contest was won eventually by Violet,
who, though lacking Alurgatroyd’s stern piety, was quite as
insistent that Kenneth must at ’east appear to accord a proper
respect to the dead. Finding that he was unmoved by
argument or entreaty, she got up in a cold anger that was only
partly feigned, and signified her intention of departing
without permitting him to k'ss her, or even to touch her
hand. Si-me .spark of wrath kindled in his eyes, but was
quenched by the closing of the door behind her. He hurried
after her; what passed between them in the hall the others had
no means of knowing; but in a few moments they came back
together, Kenneth nicehlv bound by his woid to attend the
funeral, and Violet as chaiming and as sweet tempered as she
had been angry before.

“Jf Kenneth marries that young woman lie won’t be able *0
call his soul his own,” Giles remarked later to /.ntonia at the
door of the flat.

“I know; it’s sickening,” she agreed. “He isn’t really in
love with her, eiUicr. He’s in lov c w ith what she looks Hke.”

“Wliich reminds me,” said tdles. “What has become of
your intended’’*”

“I don’t know, but I’m beginning to be afraid he’s going to
jilt me,” replied Antonia, with undiminished cheerfulness.

This theory, howev er, proved to be incorrect, for Mesurier
attended the funeral the following afternoon, and returned
with Kenneth to the flat afterwards. He bad recovered his
poise, and nothing could have been more graceftd than his

DEATH IN THE STOCKS I57

apology for having left Antonia in anger when they had last
met. He apparently considered that his action in seeking out
Superintendent Hannasyde at Scotland Yard with the revised
version of his story exempted him from any future inquiry,
but Kenneth did what he could to disillusion him on this
point, and succeeded so well that within two days of being
reconciled to his fiancee, Rudolph’s nerves began to show
signs of fraying, and he exclaimed, in exasperation at the
Verekers’ absorption in other and more everyday matters: “I
don'i know how you two can go on as though nothing had
happened, or was likely to happen!”

“What is likely to happen?” inquired Antonia, looking up
from a collection of guide-books and railway time-tables.
“We could quite well go to Sweden, Ken. I’ve worked it all
out.”

“What’s the use of talking about trips abroad when you
may be in prison?” said Rudolph, with an attempt at a laugh.

“(3h, tliat!” she said, dismissing it. “Of couroc v'e shan’t
be in prison. Anyway, I’m getting sick of the murdi r.”

“I wish we knew what the police were doing!”

“'I hey ’re working like a pack of bloodhounds on our
trails,” said Kenneth, leaning over the back of Antonia’s chair
to look at Baedeker. '‘And talking of bloodhounds, why’s all
my bedroom furniture in the hallr”

“Murgatroyd. She says she’s going to turn the whole flat
out.”

“What, not this room too?” cried Kenneth, in such tones
of dismay as not the gloomiest of Rudolph’s forebodings
could wring from him.

“Yes, but not till to-niotrow. I.cslic said she’d come
.and help, so 1 daresay she’ll take care of your pictures,” said
his sister, omitting, however, to ad<l the information that
Murgatroyd’s bitterly expressed object was to keep the place
free from that Violet Williams for one day, even though

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

I}8

she had to make the stadio floor wringing wet to do it.

It was as well for Murgatroyd’s temper that this was not
really her main object, for when Violet walked into the flat
after luncheon on tlie following day (a habit which she had
lately acquired) and found the studio in a state of glorious
disorder, witli one dishevelled damsel polishing the handles of
a bow-fronted chest, the other turmi>g out the contents of an
overloaded bureau, and Kenneth, sitting on the window-seat,
reading aloud to them snatches from Ti>e Oxford Book of
Seventantb Ctntury Verse, sh<“ displayed an unexpectedly
domesticated trait in her character, demanded an overall from
Murgatroyd, and within ten minutes of entering the studio
had taken complete charge of operations. By the time she had
shown I eslie a better way to polish brass, convinced Antonia
that what she wanted was a large box to put all the waste
paper m, and rehung all the pictures which had been taken
down to be washed, one only of the original four in the studio
remained unruffled. '1 his was, of course, Kenneth, who paid
not the least attention either to requests that he should move,
or that he should shut up for a moment, but continued to
delve into the pages of the Oxford Book, emerging always with
a fresh ext ract which he read aloud, heedless of the fact that no
one was listening t(' him. I'he only time he vouchsafed any
answer to the various things tliat were said to him was when
Violet, in the voice of one at the limit of her patience, said:
“B ill you stop reading Milton aloud?” To this he replied:
“Ijjip,” in a perfectly calm way, as soon as he got to the end of a
line.

Any failure on Kenneth’s part to treat her with diat
adoring respect which she demanded from him always
impaired the smoothness of Violet’s temper, so neither
Antonia nor Leslie was surprised when she seized on the
opportunity afforded by tlie discovery of an automatic pistol
in the bureau to say with a sting behind her sweetness:

DEAtH IN THE STOCKS

139

“Youts, Tony dear? Perhaps it’s as •well the police know
nothing about that.”

"I don’t know why,” replied Antonia. “It’s fully loaded,
and hasn’t been fired for months.”

“Vfhy so touchy, darling?” said Violet, rising her delicate
brows. “Of course, now 1 daren’t ask why you keep such a
very odd weapon.”

“That’s a good thing,” said Antoma.

Conversation waned after that, but Violet’s capable
assistance so soon reduced the studio to ordtr that Antonia
repented of her momentary lU-temper, took the U>,ford Book
away from Kenneth, and told Murgatroyd to go and make
tea.

Ihey were in the middle of this repast when the door was
opened, and a man who might have been any age be'^wten
tWrty-fivc and forty-lhe, looked in. He had good-
humouied, if somewhat weak countenance, from wliich a
pair of rather bloodshot grey eyes looked out with a certain
amiable vagueness.

The paitv gathered round the table stared at liim blankly
and unhelpfully.

He smiled deprtcatingly. “Hullo'” he said, in the slightly
husky tones of one in the habit of indulging his penchant for
spirits too <iflcn. “Door was on the latcli, so I thought I’d
walk in. How’s everybody?”

Antonia glanced inquiiingly at her brother, and was
startled to see his face suddenly whiten. A look of mingled
incredulity, horror, and anger came into his eyes. “My God
in Heaven'” he said chokingly. "‘Roger!”

ClIAPTLR XJII

A SLici- of bread and butter dropped from Violet’s lingers on
to the floor. LesUe, seated beside her, heard her say numbly:
“But he’s dead. They said he was dead!”

Antonia looked the visitor over frowningly. “Is it really?
YtSy now 1 come to tliink of it, that’s v horn you reminded me
of. Wc thought you were dead.”

“llioughtl” Kenneth etied. “W c loiew he was dead! He’s
been dead for years' ”

“Well, as a matter of fact, T never was dead/’ said Roger
Vercker, with the air of one making a coniidence. “J ust at the
time it seemed a good thing on the whole to be dead, because
there was a bit of trouble over some money. I iorget the
rights of it now, but people were very unpleasant, very.”

“But why on earth did yon go on being dead all this time?”
demanded Antonia.

“Oh, 1 don’t knov,” replied Roger, with the vagueness
which characterized him. “There wasn’t much point in
coming to life again, really. It would have meant a lot of
bother one way and another. I did tliink of it, but I was
getting on quite well as I was, Taney you being Tony! 1
shouldn’t have known you. Kenneth’s altered too. Wants his
hair cutting.”

“Leave my hair alonel” said Kenneth angrily. “If you ”

“It’s all right. I wasn’t going to touch it. You know, it
seems very funny to me to find you two grown up. Tony had
a pigtail when I saw her last— at least, I may be confusing
her with someone else, but I tliink it was she. I^ong one,
with a bow on the end. You were a horrid little beast. You
haven’t changed as much as Tony, now I come to look at

140

DEATH INTHE STOCKS I41

you. I remember you messing about with a lot of smelly
paints,”

“Well, he still does that. He’s an artist,” said /Vutonia.

Roger heard this with a faint show of surprise, as fleeting
as it was mild, “No, is he really? Well, I'm sorry I spoke
about his hair, then. ( ''ne gets out of toucli, that’s how it is.
I’m going to settle down at home now. After all, why not?
You get sick of roaming about, and the man they mistook for
me in that Cuban dust-up was called 1 larry Fisher, man
who was killed, I mean, I didn’t inird at first: one name
seemed as good as another. But you’ve no idea how tired jou
can get of being called Fishci. TVe liad sc\ cn j cars of it, and
It’s very irritating, T thought I'd come Jionic.”

“It seems to me,” said Antonia, who had listened to tins
rambling speech with a good deal of impatience, “tha*- vou
mtght )ust as well have called } ourself Vercktr again without
coming home.”

“1 hat’s )ust It. ft wouldn’t ha\c been safe. Bloodsucker ,
and things,” explained Roger. “Besides, wh) shouldn’t I
come homc‘?”

“Because you’re not wanted’” Kenneth said tetsely. “CJod,
It makes me sick!” He began to pace up and down, shaking
Ills clenched fists, “For seven yeais we’ve been living in a
fool’s paradise, believing you dead and buried, and you turn
up now — now oi all accursed moments’ and ruin everything!”

“Good k»rd, I hadn’t thought of thad'’ exclaimed Antonia,
“I must say, it is a bit thick’”

“Thick! It’s damnable.” Kenneth shot out. “What’s the
use of Arnold’s being murdered if we’re saddled with Roger?”

Violet, who had been sitting in a kind of froircn silence,
now said, in a sharpeneil voice: “Please! Muo you talk like
that?”

No one paid any attention to her; Antonia sat glowering at
Roger, Kenneth continued to walk up and down, and Roger,

14 *

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

glandng from one to the other, said cautiously: was

that you said? Sometimes I think I’m getting a bit deaf. 1
wish you wouldn’t tramp about so; it’s a fidgeting sort of
habit. Makes me giddy.”

“Arnold’s dead,” said Antonia briefly.

He blinked at her, apparently incredulous. “My brother
Arnold?”

“Yes, of course. Do you think we know hundreds of
Arnolds?”

“But he can’t be deadl”

“I tell you he is.”

“Well, that’s a very extraordinary thing. Of course, if you
say he is, I daresay you may be tight, but 1 don’t understand it
at all. What did he die of.-'”

“He died of a kiufe in the back'” Kenneth flung over his
shoulder.

Roger looked startled, and tut tutted several limes. “I
can’t understand it at all. I call it very shocking, very shock-
ing indeed. Who did that to tlic poor fellow?”

“Wc don’t know,” replied his sister. “Kenneth or T,
probably.”

“You shouldn’t joke about it,” said Roger. “How would
you like to have a knife stuck m your back? hen did it all
happen?”

“Last Saturday,” said '\ntoiua.

Roger stared at her, and then looked round foi .i cliair. He
sat down. “Vtell, I’m suipnscd,” he said. “J'>tremely
surprised.”

Kenneth paused in lus pacing. “Just how long have you
been in England?” he demanded.

“I’ll tell you,” answered Roger obligingly. “I landed
yesterday. Extraordinary coincidence. I mean, I come home
expecting to see poor old Arnold, and I find he’s just been
killed.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

145

“If that was what you expected to do why didn’t you go to
Eaton Place instead of coming here?”

“Figure of speech,” explained Roger. “When I said that I
expected to see Arnold, what I meant was that I didn’t tlunk
he’d be dead.” He drew Antonia’s attention to Leslie Rivets,
who had risen from the table, and was putting on her hat
before the mirror. “Someone’s going. Nobody need go on
my account, you know.”

“I think I will, though,” Leslie said. “1 expect you’ve got a
lot to say to eacli other.”

“Nice girl,” observed Roger, when she had departed.
“Who’s the other one?”

“Violet Williams. She’s engaged to Kenneth,” answered
Antonia.

“Oh!” said Roger dubiously. He found that Violet was
bowing slightly, and half rose to return this civil greeting.
Sinking back again into his chair he became lost in thought,
from which he presently emerged to say: “If Arnold’s dead
who gets all the money?”

“Oh, give me air!” besought Kenneth, beginning to tramp
up and down again.

Antonia replied somewhat scornfully: “You know jolly
well you get it. That’s why wc’ie so disgusted you’ve fumed
up.”

“Well, I thought I did,’’ said Roger. “I must say I could
do with it. I was a bit shocked .at the news at first, but I sec
it’s not so bad. Mind you, 1 quite af predate your point of
view.”

“If you don’t dear out of this damned quick there’ll be
anodaer murder in the family!” Kenneth said through his
teeth.

“Now, don’t get worked up,” Rog t advised him kindly.
“You’ll soon get used to me being back. When j'ou’ve lived
as long as I have you’ll find it’s extraordinary what you can get

144 DEATH INTHE STOCKS

used to. And talking of clearing out, my idea was that I’d
stay with you for a day or two, till I get my bearings.”
cried his half-brcnher and sister in unison.

'^That’s all very well,” said Roger, ^*but if I don’t stay here,
where am 1 going?”

“Anywhere. We don’t mind,” replied Antonia.

*'Yes, but to tell you the truth, ’ confided Roger, “I’m a
bit hard-up just at tJic moment.”

“You’ve got two hundred and fifty thousand pounds,”
said Kennctli bitterly,

“Is that v/hat Arnold left? You don’t mean it! If I’d known
that ” I Ic paused, and shook his head.

“What on earth do you mean - -if you’d known it?” asked
Antonia.

He looked at her in his ha?y way. “i^oigotrcn what I was
going to say. "1 rouble is, 1 haven’t got any clothes.”

“You must have got some clothes,” replied Antonia,

“That’s just it: you might think so, and a matter of fact I
did have some, only 1 had to pawn my suit-ease.”

“WelP” said Antoma iinsymipathetically.

“Well, that’s the whole thing in a nutshell. It’s no use
hanging on to a lot of shirts and things if you haven’t any’^-
thing to carry them about in. You sec my poiiit.-^”

“C*)!!, (Jod'” groaned Kenneth. “I can’t bear iti”

“I call that very unreasonable,” said Roger. “After all,
they weren’t youi clothes. If t started putting your sliirts up
the spout you’d have a perfect right to complain. It’s coming
to something if I can’t pop mv own belongings. Moreover,
if I inlicrit all Arnold’s money I shall be able to buy a lot of
new clothes, nnd no harm done. But don’t run away with the
idea that I particularly want to stay with you, because I don’t
at all mind putting up at a hotel as long as I’ve got some
money. Supposing y^ou were to lend me a few pounds — say
fifty — to tide me over?”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

145

"Let’s pretcndi” said Kenneth satcastically. “You’ve never
paid a debt in youi life!”

“That’s perfectly true,” agreed Roger, with unimpaired
affability, “but I wouldn’t mind paying you back if I had two
himdted and fifty thousand pounds.”

“Well, I won’t lake the risk,” replied Kenneth. “Go and
touch Giles. You won’t get anj thing oui of me.”

At tills moment the door opened to admit Murgatroyd,
who came in to cleat away tlic tea. Antonia said g’oomily:
“Iwook what’s happened, Murgatroyd. 'sn’t it damnable?”

Murgatroyd started to say: “How many times havx I told

you 1 won’t have you use such ” 'J hen she caught sight

of Roger, and gave a scream.

“Hullo, Murgatroyd'” said Roger, with his sleepy,
apologetic smile. “You still ahve?”

Murgatroyd seemed to find difficulty in speaking. She
swallowed once or twice, and in the end said in a hollow
voice: “I knew it. You ask Miss 1 cslie if T didn’t sec bad
news in my teacup yesterday, plain as plain. Mark my words,
I said, something awful is on its way to tliis house.”

“A lot of people scoff at reading fortunes in teacups,” said
Roger, interested. “T’ve always thought thete was something
in it myself. It just shows. You haven’t changed much.
1^’atter, of course, but I should have known you anj'where.”

“I’ll thank you not to make personal remarks about me,
Mr. Roger! What have you come home for, that’s what I’d
like to know? Not that I need to asl . Trust vou to come
nosing round after pickings! Talk about hyenas’.” Wrath
swelled her voice. She said strongly: “Just like you it is to
tty and take what’s Master Kenneth’s away from liim! Don’t
tell me! If I had my way, back you’d go to u here you came
from, double-quick!”

“Yes,” said Antonia, “but he hasn’t got any clothes, and he
says he’s going to stay with us.”

146 DEATH ZM THE STOCKS

“Not ifl tjlis house, he isn’t,’’ said Mutgattoyd.

“1 shan’t get in ihe way,” Roger assured her. '*You’ll
hardly notice me.”

“No, not once you’re the other side of the front door, I
won’t,” was the grim reply.

Violet got up from the table, and came slowly across the
room. “Don’t you diink this is ah a little undignified?” she
said in her calm way. “Kennetli, dear, please stop prowling,
and try to be reasonable. Poor Mr. Vereker can’t help not
being dead, after alll” bhe smiled at Roger, and added
prettily: “ITicy’tc an awful couple, aren’t they? You mustn’t
pay any attention to what they say. And no one’s offered you
any tea' Would you like some?”

“No,” said Roger frankly, “but T shouldn’t mind a whisky-
and soda if it happened to be handy.

*‘Of course,” she said. “I’ll get you one — since these rude
people liave forgotten their manners'”

Kenneth gazed at her in blank astomshment. ‘^y good
girl, do you realize what this means?” he asked. “Have you
by any cliance grasped who he is^”

“Yes, dear, perfectly,” rephed Violet, going over to the
sideboard and opening one of the cupboards. “And if I can
put a detent face on it, I diink y ou might too. Will you say
when, Mr. Vereker?”

“If he does it’ll be a record,” remarked Kenneth.

“That’ll do, Kenneth,” Violet said, in a tone of authority.
“There, is that how you like it, Mr. Vereker^”

“I hke it almost anyhow,” replied Roger simply. “I’ve
forgotten your name, but thank you.”

“Williams,” she said. “Violet WiUiaras. A very ordinary
name, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, they’re always the worst to keep in your head,”
agreed Roger. “Well, here’s luck, cverybodyl Chin-chin'”

His relatives received this in unresponsive silence.

DEATH IN THE STOCKS I47

Murgatroyd, -whose ifidignation had been diverted by the
sight of Violet doing the honours of the flat, said suddenly:
"Well, what’s to be done, that’s what I want to know?”

“Don’t worry about me,” said Roger. “I’m very adaptable.
I don't suppose I shall be here long either. My idea is to take a
flat on my own.”

"Why bother?” said Kenneth. “Isn’t .\rnold’s house
enough for you?”

"I shouldn’t like it,” replied Rogei, with more decision
than he had yet shown. "Not my style at all. I'll tf 11 you what,
though; I’ll give it to you and Tony.”

“Thanks. We don’t want it.”

Murgatroyd, who had been thinking, said in a somewhat
mollified voice: “I suppose he’ll have to stay, ft won’t do any
good to have him trapesing round town like a reorular tt»mp.
He can have the camp-bed la the box-room.”

“I shall want a pair of Kenneth’s pyjamas as well,” said
Roger helpfully.

"If you stay m this flat I shall clear out of it,” announced
Keuneth.

“No, you won’t,” said his sister. "I’m not going to be left
to cope with him.”

“All right, then, let’s both go. J.et’s go to Sweden at once!”

“I can’t. Who’d look after the dogs^”

"Damn the dogs!”

“Have you got a lot of dogs^” inquired Roger, looking
round for some sign of them. “What s art of dogs?”

“Bull-terriers,” replied Antonia briefly.

"I don’t know that I like the sound of tliat. I got bitten by
a dog once, and they told me it was a bull-terrier. Not tliat 1
wanted to know.”

"Let’s have the dogs in,” said Kenneth, brightening
“You never know your luck.”

“Don’t be childish, Kenneth,” interposed Violet "It isn’t

148 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

for me to make a suggestion, but don’t you think Mr.
Carrington ought to be told what’s happened?”

“You don’t mean to tell me Uncle Charles isn’t dead yet?”
said Roger. “I don’t want to see him. The last time 1 set eyes
on him he said a whole lot of things I’m glad I can’t re-
member.”

“You won’t have to see him,” replied Antonia. “Giles
took over all our affairs 5 'cars ago.”

“Oh, Gilcsl” said Roger. “Well, I don’t mind him. Do
just as you like about it. Now I come to think of it, he wasn’t
A bad chap at all. J was at school with him.”

“Yes, till they sacked you,” said Kenneth.

“You’ve got that muddled up,” said Roger. “You’re
thinking of t)xford Now, there 1 did get into trouble. I
forget the rights of it, but theie was a lot of unpleasantness
one way and another. As a matter of fact, I’ve been very
unlucky all my life. Not that I’m complaining.”

Antonia, apparently thinking that Violet’s sugg^tion was
a good one, had walked across the studio to tlie telephone,
.ind was dialling her cousin’s number. lie answered the call
himself, and as soon as Antonia heard his voice, she said
without any preamble: “Giles, are you doing anything?
I’ecausc if not you’d better come round at once.”

“Had I?” he said. “Wliat’s happened now?”

“Something utterly sickening. Roger’s turned up.”

'^Wbatr

“Roger. He isn’t dead, at all. He’s here.”

There was a moment’s startled silence; then Cities said in a
voice quivering with amusement: “But what a disaster!”

“Yes, it’s awful. We don’t in the least know what to do
about it.”

“My poor Tony, I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do.”

“It’s ^ very well for you to laugh, but he says he’s going to
stay with us till you advance him some money. So do you

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

*49

think you could bring tound some at once^ He wants fifty
pounds, but I should think twenty would do He hasn’t got
any clothes ”

“What, none at all?”

“No — that IS, yes, you idiot, of course he has’ But no
pyjamas, or things ”

“How very hke hmi'” said CtiIcs

“I daresay, but the point is we don’t want him litre, and he
won’t go unless he has some cash ”

“jf y dtar girl, I can’t possibly do anything about it at a
moment’s notice’”

“I supjiose you wouldn’t like to knd him so ne money?”
Antonia said, without much hope
“I shouldn’t,” replied (jiLs

“No, 1 didn’t think you would But it's pretty g- m if
uc’ve got to hate him here, you know.”

“Where is he »”

‘ ‘I keep on telling you’ il n”

Cjiles’s voice was brimful of hughter “Not in the room?”
“'5fes, of course,” said Antonn impatiently.

“1 low he must be enjoying tnis eonv trs ition' ”

At this point Poger, who had been listening uith hi > usual
placidity, intcrtuptcd to sa\ “Cxivc old (jilts mt lov e ”

“He wants me to give \ ou his love He’s jusl like th it ”
“He always was I can’t rise to those a<lection’*e heights,
but tell lum I congratulate him ou not ' leing dead \17herc did
he spring from?”

“South America, I suppose I didn’t ask \uyway, he
landed yesterday. Do come round ”

“I can’t do any good it I do, Tom, but 1 11 look in after
dinner, if you hke ”

Witli this she had to be content ’ t the other end of the
telephone Giles Carrington sat lot a moxnent after he had laid
down the receiver, thinking Then, with a fairt smile

150 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

hoveting about his mouth, he picked the teceivec up again,
and lang up Scotland Yatd.

Superintendent Hannasyde was still in die building, and
after a few minutes Giles was put through to him.

“Is that you, Hannasyde?”

“It is,” rephed the Supermtendent.

“Do you lemembcr, I wonder, that I prophesied something
unexpected would turn up?”

“1 do.” Ihe Superintendent’s voice quickened witih
interest.

“Well, T thought perhaps ^ou’d hkc to know that it has,”
said Giles. “Roger Verektr has come home.”

“Roger Who’s hc>”

“Roger Vertker,” said Giles, “is the brother who ought to
Ime died sc\eo years agol”

“C»ood lord!” The Superintendent sounded startled.
‘ Whtn^”

“I’m inforiTitd that he landed yesterday — belifve from
South J^menca, but I’m not certain on that point. At the
moment he’s slaying at the studio. I’m going round to see
him this ettning ”

“Do 5 ou mind if I come with you?” asked Hannasyde.

“Kot in tl e least,” replied Giles cheerfully.

aUPTER XIV

Violet, who made a show of leaving the studio shortly before
dinner, was easily persuaded to remain. Kenneth said that
since she seemed to like Roger so much she had better stay
and entertain him, as neither he nor Tony felt at all capable of
doing it. She took this in good part, merely smiling at him in
a ratlier aloof way, and continuing to ask Roger civil questions
about liis journey. Presently, when Murgatroyd, with an ill
grace, came to show Roger the way to the box-room which
was to be his temporary abode, she took the Verekets to task,
and told them that she felt so sorry for Roger at meeting. with
such a reception that she felt she had to do something about
it. Antonia pointed out to her that as far as Roger was con-
cerned it was all water off a duck’s back: an obbcrv.ition so
patently true that even Violet could not gainsay it. Anti>ma
saw more point m her second argument, which was that by
showing his disgust so plainly Kenneth was placing himself
in a very suspicious light. Antonia was inclined to agree witli
this, but Kenneth at once started to argue tliat liis attitude
was entirely consistent, and would be more Itkcl/ to puzrle
the police than to convince them that he was Arnold’s
murderer. In the middle of the inevitable discussion that
followed, Roger came back into the rt.om, and Kennctli, to
whom, once he was embarked on an argument, all persons
were alike, immediately put the case to him.

Roger listened attentively, and without embarrassment,
and said in a painstaking way: '‘You mean, if } oii,go about
saying what a damnable thing it is I’ve 'omc home, the police
will think you stuck that knife into A moldi*”

“No, that’s what Violet thinks. I say that if I pretended

152 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

not to mind they’d be far more likely to be suspicious.”

“Well, I don’t know,” said Roger, ‘"niey might, of course,
but you can’t be too careful with policemen. I’ve had a lot of
trouble with them in my lime, all sorts of policemen. Some-
times I think the Rnglish ones are the worst, but at others
I’m not so sure. By the way, did you murder Arnold? I don’t
want to be inquisitive, but 1 wondeted.”

“What do you suppose I’m likely to answer?” retorted
Kenneth.

“Quite so,” said Roger. “Silly of me. What I mean is, it’s
a nuisance for you if you did, now I’ve come home. Waste of
time.”

“Unless I Jimrder you too,” said Kenneth thoughtfully.

“Now, don’t start talking like that,” said Roger. “Before
you know where you are you’ll be doing it. T never could
stand impulsive people, never.”

Kenneth eyed him speculatively. “Ihc best thing, of
course, would be to foist Arnold’s murder on to you,” he
said. “I don’t quite see how, at the moment, but I may think
of something.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” remarked Antonia. “You
wouldn’t have to make up a motive, either, because he’s got
one.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” said Roger, a sliadc f)f uneasiness in
his voice. “And it’s no use going on with it, because I’ve
already told you I only landed yesterday.”

“Ivloreovcr,” continued Antonia, brightening, “the knife
was a foreign dagger or stiletto (I forget which), common in
Spain and South America. They said so at tht Inquest.”

“You never told me that,” Kenneth reproached her. “It’s
very important. Naturally, that’s just the sort of thing Roger
would use.”

“Now there you’re wrong,” said Roger. “If there is one
thing that I wouldn’t use it’s that. I don’t believe in knifing

DEATH IN THE STOCKS tJJ

people. You see a lot of it in some of the places IVe been in,
but that isn’t to say you get into the way of doing it yourself.
At least, I don’t. Besides, I didn’t know anything about the
murder till you told me. As a matter of fact, now I come to
think of it, I don’t know much about it now. I don’t even
approve of it.”

However, Kenneth was not easily to be diverted from his
chosen train of thought, and he continued to pursue it until
dinner was brought in. Murgatroyd waited on them in silence,
and only occasionally threw Roger a hostile look. She
confided to Antonia, later, that it might be as well to keep in
with Roger, “For, whatever his faults. Miss Tony — ^and it
would take me till to-morrow to tell you them — ^lie’s not
mean. That I will say for him.”

“You needn’t think I’m going to sponge on Roger,” replied
Antonia.

“You never know what you may do till you come to it,”
said Murgatroyd.

It was not until after nine o’clock that Giles ('arrmgton
entered the flat, and when she admitted him, and recogni.ied
his companion, Murgatroyd gave a disparaging smff, and
remarked that it never ramed but what it poured.

The small party gathered together in the studio was not
being a success, in spite of all Violet’s efforts to make it one.
She had managed to stop Kenneth trying to evolve some
method by which Roger might have contined to commit the
murder and yet appear to have been on the high seas at the
time, but she could not induce him either to take part in the
sort of general conversation she was trying to promote, or to
be poUtc to his half-brother. Site had taken pams to draw
Roger out on the subject of his travels, but Kennr th, who was
invariably made irritable when she best ‘\ ed her attention on
another man, blighted most of Roger’s reminiscences by
interpolating now and then the remark that he didn’t believe a

DEATH IK THE STOCKS

word of it. He sat slouched in the largest atm-dhair, with an
expression of brooding anger in his eyes; and the only interest
he displayed during Roger’s rambhng narration was in the
story of the beautiful Spaniard who had twice tried to kill
him.

Antonia, frankly bored, had curled herself up on the divan
with two of her dogs at her feet, and was reading a novel.
She put it down when the door opened to admit her cousin,
and greeted him with rehef. “Oh, goodl” she said. “Now
you can come and u 11 us hov' to get rid of him! HhUoI What
have you brought the police for?”

Kenneth’s scowl vanished. He sprang up, exclaiming:
“You sec how right my dieory is, Roger! They’ve come for
you already

Roger, too, had tistn, and was looking gieatly disturbed:
“If policemen arc going to infest the place I shall have to go,”
he said. “It isn’t that I’m afraid I shan’t be comfortable,
because I\c tried the camp-^ed and it isn’t bad. \CTiat 1 mean
is. I’ve slept in many worse. But I don’t like policemen.
Some people feci tbs same about cats. Always know the
instant one comes into the room, and begin to get creepy.
Not that J^ e any objection to cats, mind y ou. Far from it. In
fact, if I had to be bothered with any sort of an animal, I think
I should choose a eat.”

“■'^tll, I wouldn’t,” said Antonia, who bad happened to
listen to this. “1 hey 're inhuman things— though I suppose
there are cats and cats.”

“Ihere you are, then,” Roger pointed out. “But it’s no
use tclhng me there are policemen atid poheemen, because it
wouldn’t be true. It’s always puzzled me what anyone ever
wanted poHcemcn for except to stand about at cross-roads,
sticking out their hands, and even that seems to me the kind of
job anyone else could do as well, if not better.”

wish you wouldn’t talk such drivel,” said Antonia.

DKATH IN THE STOCKS I55

"Anybody woidd dunk you wete going to have one as a pet.
And if oAer people directed traflfic instead fhy'd be police-
men, so I don’t see that it would make much diffcrtnce.”

Roger followed this argument car^ully. “’I here’s a fallacy
in that,” he said. “I’m not sure where it is, and i’ra not going
to work 11 out, but the thing doesn’t sound right to me,
somehow.”

Any faint hope Hannasyde might have dierished of finding
in Roger one normal member of the Vereker family vanished.
He sighed, and transferred his attention to Kennctli.

Giles interposed before Aatoma could continue the
argument. “Shut up, Tony. Well, Roger, how are you’
When did you arrive?”

“I’m getting tired of anstieriag that question,” rephed
Roger, shaking hands. “I keep on telling everyone I lauded
yesterday — ^I’m glad you’\ c come round, because it’s a very
awkward predicament, mine. I’ve run out of cash "I hey tell
me you’re one of Arnold’s executors, so you’ll be able to
advance me some of the money. How much lasc you
brought?”

“1 haven’t brought any,” ansueied (ules. “I can’t advance
you money in that haphazard fashion,”

The interest which had gleamed for a feu moments in
Roger’s eye was effectually bamshed by tlus pionounrcment.
He relapsed into his usual quiescence, mticly remarking in a
discouraged way that if that was so, he couldn’t see why Cules
had troubled to come. “Not that 1 don i. w.mt to lee you,” 1 c
added. “But there doesn’t seem to me to be mudi point m it.”

“If he succeeds in ridding us of you there’ll be a great deal
of point in it,” said Kenneth savagely. “Sit down, my friend-
the-Superintendent, sit down' Xk hat can I offer j ' lu’ XMusky ’
Lager?”

The Superintendent declined any refreshment. “I’m sony
to interrupt a — afiumly party,” he said, but ”

6

1$6 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

“Not at all,” said Kenneth. “We’re charmed to see you.
At least, my half-brother isn’t, but that’s probably because his
conscience isn’t clear. But the rest of us are delighted.
Aren’t we, Violet? By the way, I don’t think you’ve met our
ftiend-the-Superintendent, darhng. This is he. Super-
intendent, my fiancee— iVIisb WiU'ams.”

Violet bowed slightly, and bestowed on Hannasyde the
small mechanical smile she reserved for her social inferiors.
Turning from him, she suggested to Kennctli m a low voice
that she should go. lie instantly quashed this, so she com-
promised by withdrawing tactfully to the other end of the
room under pictence of opening a window.

Neanwhile Giles had introduced the Superintendent to
Roger, and Hannasyde, in lus good-humoured way, was
explaining the ostensible reason for his visit. “As I expect
you have been told, Mr. Vercker, your brother, Mr. Arnold
Vereker, was stabbed at Ashledgh Green last Saturday,” he
began, “so I’m sure you will ”

“Yes, I’ve been told that,” rephed Roger, “but it has
nothing to do with me. Naturally I was shocked to hear it.
In fact, I didn’t at first believe it.”

“It must have been a temblc shock,” agreed Hannasyde
sympathetically.

“Well, it was. If they’d said he’d been shot, or been found
with his head stuck in a gas oven, it would have been another
matter, because there’s notliing surprising about that in these
days. But a kmfe in the back is a very unusual thing in
i ngland. '1 ook me back to C olumbia in a flash.”

“Really?” said Hannasyde. “Have you just come from
Columbia?”

“Oh no,” said Roger vaguely. “But I was there for a spell
once. Didn’t care for it, but you’d be surprised at the amount
of quiet knifing that goes on. At least, it ^d in my day , but of
course it may have changed by now.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 1J7

“I’ve always understood that those parts were somewhat
uncivilized,” said Hannasydc. “Though they say South
America is the country of the future.”

“They’ll say anything,” replied Roger dampingly.

Ilaunasyde persevered. “Which part have you come
from?” he mqmred,

said Roger. “But it’s no use making a lot of
inquiries about me there, because I’ve been Uvmg under
another name. More convenient,” he added, in explanation.

“I see,” said Hannasydc. “And so joa’rc just back When
did you land?”

“Yesterday,” said Roger, eyeing him suspiciously.

Hannasydc smiled. “1 hat sounds to me hke a rcmatkablv
good alibi,” he said lightly. “ W hat was } our si lip?”

“Well, I’ve forgotten,” said Roger, “if I ever knew, vliirh
I rather doubt. I'o tell you the truth, 1 don’t take much
interest in ships. There are some people who no sooner get
on board than they stait making friends with the Chief
Iingineer so that they can go down and have a look at the
engine-room, which, as a matter of fact, is a nasty, smellv
place. I’m not like that at all.”

Giles, who had been inquiiing of x\ntoma half-laughingly,
half-anxiously, whether she w'as recondled to Mesutier,
turned his head, and said: “1l ou must remember the name ot
the ship, surely?”

“There’s no must about it,” reyhed Roger. “I can
forget much more important things than that. 'I hough
I don’t say it won’t come back to me. Very often things
do, and, what’s more, things that happened years and years

“That’ll be useful,” remarked Kenneth, lighting a cigarette.
“What a fool you were to tell us wha ' our assumed name
was! You could have forgotten that too. ’

“Oh no, I couldn’t,” Roger contradicted with sudden

DEATH IK THB STOCKS

158

bittetoess. ‘Ifyou’deret been called Hshet fox yeats on end,
you wouldn’t forget it dthex.”

‘Tve just had a hottible thought,” said Antonia suddenly.
“Arc you married?”

“It doesn’t matter if he is,” snapped Kenneth. “The mere
fact of his being alive has ditched the whole thing.”

“Not absolutely^* Antonia answered. “After all, he’s bound
to die ages before you, because he’s nearly forty now. Only
if he’s got hordes of children it all becomes a complete wash-
out.”

“You needn’t worry about that,” said Roger, “because I’m
not married. I’ve done a lot of silly things in my time, but I
never let anyone marry me.”

“Wonderful!” mocked Kenneth. “One can so readily
picture the eager queue of maidens ”

“Now, don’t tty to be witty,” besought Roger. “It’s a very
unrestful habit. All I want is a quiet life, but how going
to get it with you being clever and policemen dancing in and
out like ”

“And all I wanted,” Kenneth struck in savagely, “was for
you to remain decently interred!”

“Antipathy, Mr. Vereker? or are you making the discovery
that the acquisition of a large fortune is not a matter of such
indifference as you would liave liad us believe?”

There was a note of irony in the Superintendent’s level
voice, and at the sound of it Kenneth turned, not put out of
countenance, but alert, and with his sullen ill-humour gone in
a flash. His eyes held a challenge, his elf-smile reappeared.
“ *A hit, a very palpable hit!’ And yet, my friend-the-
Superintendent, you would suspect me more if I didn’t seem
to care whether I inherited Arnold’s fortune or not.”

“Perhaps,” Hannasyde acknowledged. “But you should
consider whether perhaps I may not suspect you of assuming
a greater degree of annoyance than you really feel, on purpose

DEATH XN THE STOCKS X$9

k> tlurow dust iu my eyes.” He paused, and then, as Kenneth
did not immediately answet him, add^ gently: “ ‘Anotha:
hit. What say you?’ ”

Kenneth laughed, and said with a good deal of delight:
“ ‘A touch, a touch, I do confess.’ You know, I’m beginning
to like you quite a lot.”

“I might return that compliment, if it occurs to you to stop
trying to hoodwink me. You ate fond of quoting from Hamlet
(though not always" sure of your source^, so I will give you
one more line to digest: ‘Take care that you don’t become as
a woodcock to your own springe.’ ”

“Ah, ‘justly 1^’d with mine own treacher}^!’ I’ll take such
care — Osric — diat I won’t let this conveisation alter my
attitude by so much as a hair’s-breadth.”

Roger leaned sideways in his chair to say confidentially to
Giles: “It’s getting a bit too high-brow for me. Is his name
Gsric? I thought you said it was Harrington.”

here is such a thing as being too clever, Mr, Vereket.”

“I’ll take your word for it. But I am only being honest.
Didn’t you come here to-mght to see how I was reacting to
the prodigal’s return?”

Hannasyde snuled faintly. Antonia, watdung him, said
dispassionately: “ ‘They bleed on both sides.’ I hoped I’d be
able to get that one off sooner or later.”

This sally seemed to complete Roger’s bewilderment. He
had been trying to follow the dialogui . but he gave it up at
that point, and shut his eyes.

“You’re not being exactly helpful, Kenneth,” said his
cousin.

“Why should I be? I don’t want the murderer to be un-
masked — unless it was Roger, of course. I approve of him.”

Roger opened his eyes again. “Now f'lat’s a very sensible
remark,” he said. “I don’t mean the b*r about me, but the
rest of it. I don’t want to know either, and if we don’t, what’s

l6o DEATH IN THE STOCKS

it got to do 'with anyone else? That’s “what 1 complain about
in policemen. Always poking their noses into other people’s
business.”

“You can’t blame them for that,” said Antonia reasonably.
“They pretty well have to. But it does seem to me much more
important at the moment to decide what’s to be done about
you. It’s all very well for you to say you can’t advance any
money, Giles, but you needn’t think we’re going to let Roger
wear all Kenneth’s clothes wlule you sit on the cash.”

“No,” said Roger, his interest reviving. “Because I don’t
like any of his shirts, for one thing.”

Antonia at once took up the cudgels in defence of her
brother’s taste, and since the argument showed signs of
developing s'wiftly into an abstract discussion on sartorial
matters, Hannasyde apparently judged it wisest to go away.
The Verekers paid very httle attention to his departure, but
Giles escorted him to the front door, and said that he had all
his sympathy.

“Thanks,” returned Hannasyde. “VC’as Roger Vereker
deported, by any chance?”

“Probably,” said Giles, with perfect equanimity. “At all
events, he’s been cast up pcnmless on out hands.”

Hannasyde looked at liim under lus brows. “Arc you
acting for him, Mr. (^arrington>”

“Not if I know it,” answered Giles.

A few moments later, having sped the Superintendent on
his way, he returned to the studio to find that the argument
had been interrupted by Violet, who throughout Hannasyde’s
visit had sat quietly at the other end of the room turning over
the leaves of a magazine. “I held my tongue while that man
was here, because, of course, I realize that it isn’t my af&ir,”
she was saying. “But I really was shocked at the way you
went on, Kenneth. It’s so silly of you, and childish. We
know you didn’t kill your half-brother, but you’re simply

DEATH IN THE STOCKS x6l

asking for trouble, talking as you did. And I must say I don’t
think it’s particularly nice of you, or sporting, to be so un-
kind to Mr. Vereker.”

“Don’t bother about me,” said Roger. “I don’t mind him,
as long as he doesn’t stait sticking knives into me.”

“I think that’s extremely generous of you, Mr. Vereker,”
said Violet. “And whatever Kenneth may say, 1 hope you’ll
believe that I at least don’t share his ftelmgs,” She picked up
her hat and gloves, and held out her h.xnd. “I’m going now.
Good bye — and please don’t pay any attention to Kenneth or
to Tony,”

“Aren’t you going to kiss him^” inquired Antonia ruth-
lessly.

“Shut up!” said Kenneth, an edge to liis voice. “I’ll sec
you home, Violet.”

They had barely left the studio when Roger remarked with
sudden and unexpected shrewdness: “I’ll tell you what she is:
she’s a gold-digger. I’ve met lots of ihcm. He’d better not
marry her.”

Antoma regarded him for the first time -with a friendly
eye. “Yes, she is a gold-digger, and I'll bet anytliing she’s
trying to vamp you so that you’ll do something handsouic for
Kenneth,”

“Well, I shan’t,” said Roger simply. “Not,” he added,
“that I’ve got much chance to do any thing for anybody so far,
even myself. When can I have some mo let , Giles?”

“I’ll get on to Gordon Truelot e to-m irrow,” n'plifcd Giles.
“He’s the other executor. 1 don’t think you ever Imew liim.”

“No, and I don’t want to,” said Roger. “Ail 1 want is some
money, and I don’t see why I can’t have if.”

“You can,” said Giles. “I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve
liad a word with Truelovc.”

“Gome and have tea,” in\ ited Antonia. “Kenneth’s taking
Violet out to a matinee.”

l6z DEATH IN THE STOCKS

“He needn’t do that,” said Roger. “Just ling nje up.”

Giles paid no heed to this somevhat tactless suggestion.
He was looking at Antonia. “Do you want me to, Tony?”

She raised her candid eyes to Ms face. “Yes, 1 do,” she
answered.

So Giles Carrington, making vague excuses to Ms suspicious
and somewhat incensed parent, left the oiEce shortly after
half-past three next day, drove Mmself to Chelsea, and arrived
at Ms cousm's flat just as Superintendent Hannasyde was
preparing to mount die stairs to the front door. “Hullo, what
brings jou here agam so soon?” he inquired. “Have you
discovered a starthng new dcvelopjnent?”

“\es,” said Hannasyde, “1 have.”

CIIAPTliR XV

The smile vamshed from Giles Carringtoa’s eyes, but it was
in the same lazy, rather humorous voice that he said; “That
sounds exatmg. What has happened?**

They began to walk up the stairs together. The Super-
intendent said with a twinkle: “Don’t worry; neidier of your
chents is implicated in the new developments.”

“I’m glad of that,” rephed Giles, pressing the front door
bell. “Roger was m England at the time of the murder. Is
that It?”

“Yes,” said Hannasyde. “That is it.”

“Poor old Rogerl” remarked Giles. “I rather suspected he
was when he forgot the name of his ship.”

Hannasyde bent an accusing stare upon him. “You’re as
bad as the rest of them,” he said severely. “The instant you
set eyes on Roger Vercket you not only suspected that he’d
been in England some time longer than he admitted, but you
were pretty sure also that he was the shabby strangci who
visited Arnold Vereker that Saturday. Isn’t tliat true?”

“Not quite,” said Giles. “I suspected it several hours
before 1 set eyes on him. As soon as I heard he had turned up,
in fact. Good afternoon, Alurgatroyd Miss fonv in?”

"Oh yes, she’s objecting you, si ,” said Murgatroyd,
holdmg the door wide. “But what call you've got to briag
the pohcc back again I’m sure I don’t know. Seems as tliough
we can’t call the place our own these days. They’re both in
the studio, Mr. Giles.”

Giles Carrmgton nodded, and walki I icross the litde hall,
followed by the Supeuntendent. In the studio Roger Vereker
was apparently woddng some problem out on scraps of paper,

163

164 DEAfll IN THE STOCKS

cxitically but not unamiably watched by bis half-sister, who
sat with her chin in her hands, looking over his calculations.
She glanced up qxiickly as the door opened, and, when she
saw Giles, smiled in her confiding way. “Hullo!” she said.
“Roger’s trying to work out a System. I think it’s all rot
myself.”

“Long may you continue to thmk so,” said Giles.

Antoma perceived Superintendent Hannasyde, and raised
her brows. “I didn’t know you were coming too,” she said.
“I rather wish you hadn’t, because, to tell you the truth. I’m
getting awfully sick of the Family Crime. However, come in
if you must.”

“I'm afraid I shall have to,” Hannasyde answered, closing
the door. “T want to ask your half-brother a few questions.”

Roger, who had started violently at sight of him, said: “It’s
no good anyone asking me questions, because I’m very busy
at the moment. As a matter of fact, I was hoping for a quiet
afternoon, now we’ve got rid of Kenneth.” *

A rough sketch in pastels, propped on the mantelpiece,
caught Giles’s attention. “Good lord, that’s clever!” he said
involuntarily. “Kenneth’s?”

“I don’t see anything clever in it at all,” said Roger. “In
fact, if I weren’t a very easy-going man, I might be quite
annoyed by it.”

“Yes,” said Giles. “J — ^I should think you might.”

“Aloreover, it isn’t anything hke me,” pursued Roger.
“Can’t be, because Kenneth had to tell me who it was meant
to be.”

“He’s caught the look, hasn’t he?” said Antonia. “lie did
it this morning. After saying portrait painting’s a debased
art, too. It is good, isn’t it?”

“Wicked!” said Giles, imder his breath. “Really, it’s
indecent, Tony!”

Hannasyde, who had also been looking in considerable

DEATH IN THE STOCKS l6j

astonishment at the sketch, ovediead this, and found himiwlf
in complete agreement, and wondered whether it was fanciful
to feel convinced that the man who could perpetrate so
merciless a portrait would be capable of anytliing, even
mtirder. He transferred his ga2e from it to the original, and
said without preamble: “You informed me last night, Mr.
Vereker, that you landed in England two days ago.”

“I daresay 1 did,” admitted Roger. “One way and another
there was a lot of chatter going on last night, and I don’t
remember all I said. But 1 don’t ant to start an argument, so
have It your own way.”

“Do you still adhere to that statement?”
hy shouldn’t I?” said Roger cautiously.

“Principally because it is untrue,” replied the Super-
intendent, with disconcerting directness.

“I object to that,” said Roger. “Tliat’s a \ery damaging
thing to say, and if you think that just because )ou’re a
detective you can go round giving people the lie ^ ou’ll find
you’re mistaken.” He paused, and reflected for a moment.
“Well, as a matter of fact, you probably won’t,” he said
gloomily, “because it seems to me there’s no limit to what the
police can get away with in this country.”

“There is a limit,” said Hannasyde, “but your cousin is
here to see that 1 don’t overstep it. "^'our name, Mr. Verckei,
docs not figure on the lists of passengers on board any vessel
arriving from South America two days ago.”

“Well, that’s a very extraordinarj- tbmg,” said Roger. “But
when I said I landed two days ago, I didn’t say I landed from
South America.”

“You said that you had come from Buenos Aires,”
Hannasyde reminded him.

“1 hat’s true enough,” agreed Roger “So I did. Of course,
if I’d known you were interested 1 could have told you the
whole story. The fact of the matter is, I got off at I isbon.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

164

critically but not unamiably watched by his half-sister, who
sat with her chin in her hands, looking over his cnlcnilations.
She glanced up quickly as the door opened, and, when she
saw Giles, smiled in her confiding way. “Hullo!” she said.
“Roger’s trjing to work out a System. I think it’s all rot
myself.”

“Long may you continue to think .'o,” said Giles.

Antonia perceived Superintendent Hannasyde, and raised
her brows. ‘ I didn’t know you were coming too,” she said.
“I rather wish you hadn’t, because, to tell you the truth, Fm
getting awfully sick of the Family Cnme. However, come in
if you must.”

“I’m afraid I shall have to,” Hannasyde answered, closing
the door. “I want to ask your half-brother a few questions.”

Roger, who had started violently at sight of him, said: “It’s
no good anyone asking me questions, because I’m very busy
at the moment. Asa matter of fact, I was hoping for a quiet
afternoon, now we’ve got rid of Kenneth.” *

A rough sketch in pastels, propped on the mantelpiece,
caught Giles’s attention. “Good lord, that’s cleverl” he said
involuntarily. “Keimcih’s^”

“I don’t see anything clever in it at aU,” said Roger. “!n
fact, if 1 weren’t a very' easy going man, I might be quite
annoyxd by it.”

“Yes,” said Giles. “I— 1 should think you might.”

“Moreover, it isn’t anytliing hke me,” pursued Roger.
“Can’t be, because Kenneth had to tell me who it was meant
to be.”

“He’s caught the look, hasn’t he^” said Antonia. “He did
it this mormng. After saying portrait painting’s a debased
art, too. It is good, isn’t it?”

“Wicked'” said Giles, under his breath. “Really, it’s
indecent, Tony!”

Hannasyde, who had also been looking in considerable

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 165

astonishment at the sketch, overhead this, and found himself
in complete agreement, and wondered whether it was fanciful
to feel convmced that the man who could perpetrate so
merciless a portrait would be capable of anything, even
murder. He transferred his gaze from it to the origin^, and
said without preamble: “You informed me last mght, Mr.
Vereker, that you landed in Englantl two days ago.”

“I daresay I did,” admitted Roger. “One way and another
there was a lot of chatter going on last night, and I don’t
remeiiibtr all I said. But I don’t want to start an argument, so
have it your own way.”

“Do you still adhere to that statement?”

“XK by shouldn’t I?” said Roger cautiously.

“Principally because it is untrue,” replied the Super-
intendent, with disconcerting directness.

“I object to that,” s.iid Roger. “7 hat’s a very damaging
thing to say, and if you think that )ust because you’re a
detective you can go round giving people the lie you’ll find
you’re nustaken.” lie paused, and reflected for a moment.
“Well, as a matter of fact, you probably won’t,” he said
glooimly, “because it seems to me there’s no linut to what the
police can get away with in this country.”

“There is a limit,” said Hannasyde, “but y'our cousin is
here to see that I don’t overstep it. "V our name, Mr. Vereker,
does not figure on the lists of passengers on board any vessel
arriving from South America two days ago.”

“Well, that’s a very extraordinary thing,” said Roger. “But
when I said I landed two days ago, I didn’t say I landed from
South America.”

“You said that you. had come from Buenos Aires,”
Hannasy’dc reminded him.

“That’s true enough,” agreed Roger “So I did. C If course,
if I’d known you were interested I couiu have told you the
whole story. The fact of the matter is, I got off at Lisbon.”

i66

X>£ATH IM THE 'STOCKS

“What on earth for?” demanded Antonia.

“There 'was a man I wanted to see,” said Roger -vaguely.

“About a dog, 1 should third:,” said Antonia, -with con-
siderable scorn.

“No, it wasn’t about a dog. It was about a lot of parrots,”
said Roger, improvising cleverly.

“You got off at Lisbon to see a ma.\ about a lot of parrots?”
repeated the Superintendent.

“That’s tight,” nodded Roger. “Amazon parrots. Not
those grey ones with pink tails, but green ones. The sort that
screech.” The story began to grip him; warming to the
theme, he continued: “'1 bought I could do a deal. You’d be
surprised at the demand there is for parrots in Portugal.”

“I should,” interpolated Hannasyde grimly.

“Anyone would be,” said Roger. “I was myself. Butdierc
it is. Ihe idea -was to ship a lot over to this man I was felling
you about. Only the trouble was we couldn’t come to terms,
so the best thing for me to do was to see him in petsOn.”

“1 trust you arrived at an agreement,” said Hannasj^de, with
heavy sarcasm.

“Well, no,” said Reger, ever fertile. “Yt’e didn’t, and the
whole thing is more or less in abeyance, because he wanted to
buy the parrots in bulk, which is ridiculous, of course.
However, now I’ve come into money I slian’t bother any
more about it.”

“I say, what a shame Kenneth’s missing all this!” said
Antonia. “Vtheie ate the parrots supposed to be?”

“Round about the Amazon,” said Roger. “You have to
catch them.”

“Yes, I can just sec you penetrating into forests and laying
snares for parrots. You are an ass!”

“WcU, 1 shouldn’t do that myself. I should employ
people,” said Roger. “Of course, if the business grew, and I
daresay it would, the idea -was to start a farm and breed them.

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 167

the same way that people breed silver foxes and things.
Properly managed there might be a lot of money m it,
because if the purchaser has to pay ten pounds for a parrot
(and very t)ften a good parrot costs more than that), you can
see for joursclf that the profit pet parrot is pretty consider-
able.” He decided that the parrots had served their turn, and
jettisoned them. “But, as I say, l\c given up thinking of it
now that I’ve come into money. They’re really beside the
point.”

“I agree with you,” said Hannasyde “1 have ascertained,
Mr. Vereker, that you were a passenger on board the SS.
Prt/U of 'London, whicli docked at Liverpool on i(>th June —
the day before that on uhich your brother was mutderttl,”

Roger leaned back m his chair. “Well, if you’ve ascertained
it, that’s tliat,” he observed. “It’s silly to argue poinjs like
that with detectives, so I’ll tell you tight away tliat the parrots
were just a httle joke of mine.”

“I am aware of that,” replied Hannasyde. “\X e shall get on
better and faster if you don’t nuke any more jokes.”

“A lot of people think speed is the curse of the ago,” said
Roger. “I can’t say I’m keen on it myself. Mind you. I’m not
at all sure there isn’t sometliing m that parrot sdicme. T he
more I think of it the more 1 tiunk tlicre might be. Supposng
people started trimming hats with parrot feathers, fur
instance?”

“Mr. Vereker, I am not quite fool enough to lielicve that
you arc tlic fool you pretend to be. Shall we abandon the
subject of parrots?”

“Just as you hke,” said Roger amiably.

“You admit that )ou landed in Idverpool on Friday, ibth
June?”

“If you’ve been nosing around at shipping agents, there’s
no point in asking me whether I admit it or not. It’s a great
pity you’ve been so inquisitive, because you’re bound to

l68 bEATK IN THE STOCKS

waste a lot of time trying to make out 1 murdered Arnold,
and 1 can tell you at the start 1 didn’t.”

“If you are so sure that I sliall be wasting my time, Mr.
Vercker, why did you try to conceal the fact that you were in
England on the lyth June?”

“Now 'that’s what I call a damned silly question,” said
Roger. “It’s obvious that if it was known that I was in
England tlten I should have had the police after me like a pack
of bloodhounds. Well, what I mean is, look at the way you’re
behaving now! Not that I blame j ou, because naturally 3 ’ou’rc
bound to do it. But that’s just it. I turn up one day, broke to
the wade, and Arnold gets himself murdered the day after. 1
should be a bigger fool than any I’\c ever met w’ith if I didn’t
see who was going to be suspected once that leaked out. I
don’t like unpleasantness, and I don’t like policemen. What’s
more, I iind all this sort of tiling very exhausting, because
T’m not one of these people who always want to be using their
brains, trjdng to remember a lot of unimportant details. It
makes my head ache. AD I want is peace and quiet.”

“Nevertheless, Mr. Vereker, 1 must ask you to cast your
mind back to the day 30 U landed, and tell me just what you
did.”

Roger sighed, but he seemed tt) be more or less resigned to
the necessity of answering, and said m a weary voice: “\^ ell,
I came to London. Naturally. What else should I do?”

“On the Friday?”

“If j’ou’ve been making a lot of inquiries, } ou must know
as well as I do that we di^’t dock till late,” said Roger.

“Certainly I know it, but you could still liave journeyed to
London that day.”

“WeU, I didn’t. I don’t hkc night travel. Never did.
Some people sleep better on a train than anywhere. All I can
say is, I don't.”

“When did you come to T.ondon, then?”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

169

“Next day, of course. But it’s no use asking me what time
the train got in, because I don’t remember. I had lunch on
it.”

“And when you arrived in London, what did you do?”

Roger thought this over for a moment, and then asked:
“Do you know what I did?”

“I am asking you,” tephed Ilannasyde.

“T know you are, and that’s just the trouble. T 1 ic point is, if
I know just how much you Icnow it'll save a gicat deal of
bother, t mean, it’s no use my tclhng yo\i T went to the Zoo if
you’re going to prove i spent the day in the British Museum.
At the same time, I don’t want to tell you anything I needn’t.
You see my difficulty?”

Giles r aldington interposed before Hannasyde could reply.
“May I give you a piece of advice, Roger?”

“jinybody can do whatever they like as far as I’m con-
cerned,” said Roger. “Mind you, I don’t particularly want
your advice, because as far as J can see you’re hand in glove
with this Superintendent Osric — no, not Gsric, but, anyway,
whatever his name is,”

Giles disregarded tliis. “Don’t play the fool. You’re not
dealing with a fool,”

“Is that your advice?” demanded Roger incredulously’,

“It is.”

“Well, 1 don’t think much of it. You can’t expect me to
change my habits at my time of life. I'a e alway s bad a gift for
raking things cheerfully.”

“This particular brand of cheerfulness is likely to land you
in trouble,” said ( liles rather sternly.

There was a distinct gleam of intelligence in tlic hazy,
bloodshot eyes. “Oh no, it isn’t'” said Roger. “Nobody’s
going to land me in trouble. Of course, I don’t say that tlicre
may not be a great deal of unplcasantncsi . I daresay there will
be. But Tony’s been telling me all about this murder, and it

lyo DEATH IN THE STOCKS

looks pcetty ■water-tiglit to me. You haven’t got any dues at
all, not even a finger print; you don’t know who was with
Ajoiold that night — ^in fact, you don’t know anything at all,
except that he was murdered.”

“Wc have one due,” said Hannasyde. “The weapon which
was used.”

“Vfell. you prove that it belonged to me and you’ll be
deverer than 1 take you for,” retorted Roger. “You won’t
do it, because it didn't belong to me. Then ■where are you?
Back at the beginning again. You’d much better give it up
now.”

“Thank you,” said Hannasyde. “If you don’t mind. I’ll
stick to It a little longer. 1 should take your cousin’s advice, if
I wcie you. Vt'hat did you do when you reached London?”

“'■J his and that,” said Roger airily.

“For one who is so convmced that nothing will land him in
trouble you are singularly reluctant to admit tliat you went to
call on your brother. Aft. Vcrcker.”

you did know that, did you^” nodded Roger. “Oh,
well, tli.>t makes it easier, I must say. I was getting very tired
of hedging. Yes, I went to call on Arnold.”

“A very natural dung to do,” agreed Hannasyde.

“Of toursc It was a natural thing to do. I hadn’t any money
left.”

'*1 see. Am I to understand that you shared your half-
brother’s and sister’s dishkc of nim?”

“No, 1 didn’t dislike him,” said Roger, reflecting. “Not
that I’ve really considered the matter.”

“You were, in fact, indifferent?”

“That’s it,” said Roger. “Just the word I wanted. Though
I must say that now I know what he ■was worth I’m not at all
s^urprised he was disliked. Mean, very mean. You’d hardly
beheve it, but fifty pounds was all I could get out of him, and
he only gave me that because he didn’t want it to get about

deXth in the stocks X71

Hast a btothet of his was spending the night on the Embank-
n>eat. He’d picked up a lot of very respectable ideas, 1
thought. Didn’t like me coming to his house at all. If I were
one of these sensitive people, which thank God I’m not, 1
should liavc been quite offended at the way he took it. "V ou’d
hardly believe it, but he only gave me that miserable fifty
pounds on condition I didn’t come near him again.”

“I’m surprised you were satisfied with fifty poimds, Mr.
Vereker.”

“I wasn’t at all satisfied with it, but I’m a leasonablc man,
and you can’t expect people to carry much mote than fifty
poimds on them. Besides, I didn’t know he’d made sudi a
packet out of the old mine.”

Antonia suddenly elected to take part in the conversation,
and said forcefully: “I.ook here, I don’t want to crab your
story, but if it’s got to be Kenneth or you or me (the mur-
derer, I mean), I’d rather it was you. So don’t tell me you
were gomg to fade out of Arnold’s Lfe for fifty poundsl”

“Certainly not,” replied her imperturbable half-brother.
“As a matter of fact, the story is rather funny. Because 1
liadn’t actually thought out how much Arnold was probably
good for. Ihe poor fellow was very upset at seeing me; oh,
very upset' Well, you can’t really blame him, because I’ve
always been the disreputable member of tlic family, and T
daresay he was afraid I might drag the name in the mud, or
sometliing. Naturally, as soon as I saw how green he was
looking T realized that this was where 1 tried my hand at a
httle polite blackmail You’d be surprised how easily he fell
for it. I said I’d come to stay with him. He didn’t hke that at
all. In fact, he got a bit violent at one time. However, he
cooled down after a bit and offered me fifty pounds to clear
out. So I pocketed that, and said I’d thmk it over. Then he
came out with what he thought was a ver> good idea, though
I vrasn’t so struck with it myself. He was to give me a ticket to

172 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

Australia, or any other place I liked at the other side of the
world, and pay me two hundred pounds a year for as long as I
stopped there/-’

“I call that a good offer,” said Antonia.

“Yes, only I don’t want to go to Australia,” explained
Roger.

“What has become of the money your father left you?”
asked Giles.

Roger looked faintly surprised. “I don’t know. Tliat was a
long time ago. You don’t expect money to last for e%'er.
Anyway, it didn’t.”

“Good lordl” said Giles. “Well, go on'”

“Forgotten where I was. All tliis talk is making me very
thirsty,” said Roger, getting up and going across the room to
the sideboard. “Anjonc else join me in a spot?” Receiving
no answer to tliis invitation, he said: “Oh, well'” and poured
himself out a double whisky. Armed with this he returned to
his chair.

“That’s better,” he said. “Where was I?”

“Two hundred pounds a y^ar to stay in Australia,”
prompted Hannasyde.

“Yes, that’s right. "Vt ell, I said I’d think it over, and Arnold
said I could take it or leave it. I may have been a trifle rash —
though I don’t think so, because from all I’ve heard A ustralia
wouldn’t suit me at all — but I said I’d leave it. That was more
or less the end of the meeting. Arnold liad a date, and wanted
to be off.”

“With whom?” asked Hannasyde quickly.

“How on earth should I knov/? I didn’t ask liim.”

“Do you know where he meant to dine?”

“Look here,” said Roget, “you don’t seem to have got the
hang of things at all. We weren’t having a friendly chat.”

“Very well,” said Hannasyde. “What happened next?”

“Gh, nothing mudi! I told Arnold he could give me a lift

DEATHIN THE STOCKS I73

as fat as Piccadilly, and we got into his car and dtovc off.
He didn’t much want to give me a lift, but he seemed to be
afraid I might tell his butler who I was, or something, if he
refused. On the way he said his offer would stand open till
Monday, and 1 could think it ovet. However, the more I
thought about it the less I liked the scheme. Besides, I’d got
fifty pounds.”

The Superintendent was watching liim closely. “So what
did you do, Mr. Vereker^”

“1 went to Monte Carlo,” replied Roger.

“You went to MontL CarloT’ repeated the Superintendent.
“Seemed an obvious tiling to do,” said Roger. “I’ve been
wanting to try out a System for some time.”

“You threw away a certain two hundred a year for a flimsv
chance of making money gambling^”

“Why not?” said Roger, eyeing him blandly.

The Superintendent glanced rather helplessly at Giles.
Giles’s lips quivered.

“Yes, that’s in the part,” he said.

Hannasyde turned back to Roger. “\i(hen did jou lease
for Monte Carlo?”

“Next morning,” Roger replied.

“On Sunday?”

“I daresay it may have been a Sunday. I didn’t notice.”
“So that on the night of 17 th June you were in J’nglanJ?”
“That’s tight,” agreed Roger. “If I’d known Arnold was
going to be murdered I wouldn’t havs‘ been, but it can’t be
helped now.”

“Where did you spend that night, Mr. Vereker?”

Roger finished what was left in his glass and set it dosvn.
His sleepy gaze travelled from one intent face to the other.
“Well, that’s a very awkward question.” he contessed.

“Why is it an awkward question?”

“Because I don’t know what to say,” answered Roger.

174 BEATH IN THE STOCKS

The Supetintendent’s blows began to draw togedier.
“You can say where you were on the night of 17th June, Mr.
Verekerl”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” said Roger. “I
can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” said Roger simply, “I don’t know.”

CHAPTLR XVI

His words produced an astonished silence He smiled in his
apologetic way and took advantage of las audience’s surprise
to get up and replenish his empty glass. “NX c shall be needing
some more whisky, Tony,” he remarked. “I bought I’d
better mention it.”

The Superintendent found his voice. “N ou don’t know
where you spent the mght of 17th June?” he repeated.

“No,” said Roger. “I don’t.”

“Come, Mr. Vereker, that is not qmte good enough!”

There was a note of anger m Hannasyde’s vouc, but 11 kft
Roger unmoved. “VC ell, I was in London lh<it I / .« tell
you.”

“For ( j od’s sake, Roger, pull y ourself togclhs^r ” his tousm
besought him. “"V ou dined at the J rocadcio, didn’t you^”

Roger thought this over “Wasn’t it the '^lonico^” he
mquired.

“Did you pay for your dinner with a ten pound note^”
demanded Hannasyde.

“Now you come lo mentum it, I btheve I did,” Roger
admitted. “W'anted change, you see.”

“Very well, then, we can assume that you dined at the
Trocadcro,” said Hannasyde. “S\ hat time was it when you
left the restaurant?”

“I don’t know,” said Roger.

There was no trace of his usual kindliness m the Super-
intendent’s face by this time. His grey eyes were stem,
his mouth set rather rigidly. “Verv well, Air. Vereker
Do you happen to know what you oiu when you kft the
Trocadero?”

175

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

176

Roger performed a vague gesture with one hand. "Just
drifted about here and there,” he said.

"Did you spend the night in a hotel or a boarding-house?”

"No,” said Roger.

"You booked no room anywhere?”

"No,” repeated Roger, still amiably smiling. “Left my bag
at the station.”

"hir. Vercker, you cannot have walked about London all
night. Will you be good enough to put an end to this
farce, and tell me without any more trifling — ^wherc you
were?”

"The trouble is I don’t know where T was,” replied Roger,
with the air of one making a fresh disclosure. “You see, I
didn’t give the address to the taxi-driver, which accounts for
it.”

“\'ou w'erc with someone, then?”

“That’s it,” said Roger. “1 was with a friend.”

“And your friend’s name?”

"Flossie,” said Roger. "At least it may have been Florence,
but that’s what I called her.”

At this point Chics turned away rather hastily, and wralked
over to the window. The Superintendent was in no mood to
share his obvious amusement, and merely rapped out:
"Flossie who?”

"Well, there you rather have me,” said Roger. "I didn’t
ask her. I mean, why should I?”

“I see,” said the Superintendent. “You spent the night at
an address you don’t know, with a woman whose name you
don’t know. Is tliat what you expect me to believe?”

“It doesn’t matter to me what you beheve,” said Roger.
"You can do as 3 ’’ou like about it. The point is you can’t
prove I didn’t. And don’t go rounding up all the Flossies in
London for me to identify, because, though I’m not a shy
man. I’ll be damned if I’ll do that.”

DEAIH IN THE STOCKS

177

Antonia, joining her cousin by the window, said wistfully:
“I do wish Kenneth were here.”

“I’m thankful he isn’t,” said Giles.

She said mote softly: “Do you think Rogcr-did it, Giles?”

“God knows!”

At the other end of the studio Superintendent Hannasyde
was speaking. “ Vi 'tvs it the news of your brother’s death which
brought j'ou back from .vlonte Carlo, Air. Vereker?”

“Oh no!” said Roger. “I didn’t know ?nj thing about that.
As a matter of fact, that particular System didn’t work out
right. Of course, I may have muddled it, but I’m inclined to
think it wasn’t a good one. However, it’s made me think of
something that 1 rather fancy may be pretty u-icful, so it
doesn’t much matter. Only it was a pity they would insist on
sending me home, because I might liave raided some money
somehow or other. J told them I wasn’t going to commit
suicide — well, do I look the sort of man who’d shoot himself?
Of course I don’t’ — but it w^as no use.”

“Do you never tcad the papeis, \h. Vertker^ Your
brother’s death was widely reported.”

“I wouldn’t say never,” replied Roger conscientiously.
“Occasionally one hasn’t anytliing better to do, but there’s
always something better to do at Monte Cailo. And if
you think it over you’ll see that if I read the papers, and
knew about Arnold being murdered, T shouldn’t have come
home.”

“As far as I can make out you had no choice in the matter,”
said Hannasyde tartly.

“Now, don’t start losing vout temper,” adMsed Roger.
“No one forced me to come and look my relations up, so I
could quite easily have lain lov' tiU it all blew o\ er ”

“Yt)u had to look your relations up, as you call it, because
you were badly in need of money,” said ! lannasyde.

“That’s perfectly true,” conceded Roger, “but if you’d

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

178

beba btoke as many times as I have you’d know diat thete ate
al'srays ways of rubbing along som^ow. You don’t suppose
I should go shovmg my head into a noose just because I
wanted some money, do you?”

“I think,” said llannasyde, getting up, '‘that, in common
with your half-brother, you suffer from a delusion that you
are clever enough to get away with anythmg. Therefore I
judge that you are very hkely to have done just that.”

“Have it your own way,” said Roger equably. “And,
talking of money, I want to talk business with my cousin when
you’re quite finished asking me questions.”

“I have finished,” said llannasyde. He turned. “Good-
bye, Miss Vereker. I’m sorry to have interrupted your tea-
party.” He nodded to Giles Carrington and walked over to
the door.

“You don’t understand me at all,” complained Roger. “I
don’t pretend to be cle\ er. In fact, most people seem to think
I’m a bit of a fool. Not that I agree with that^ beoause I’m
not a fool by any means. \nd while we’re on the subject, it’s
my belief Kenneth isn’t half what he’s cracked up to be cither.
You may think he’s very bright, but all 1 can say is ”

The door closed behmd die Superintendent. Roger looked
shghdy pained, but quite resigned. “Gone off in a huff,” he
remarked. “One of those touchy people.”

However, there were no signs of ill-temper about Han-
nasyde when, some hours latci, he faced Giles Carrington
across a dinner-table. He had accepted Giles’s invitation to
dinner without any hesitation, and the twinkle in his eye was
clearly discernible as he remarked: “I can’t make up my mind
which of your cousins I would most like to convict of this
murder. Are you letting that — that lunatic get his hands on
the Vereker fortune?”

“What can we do?” shrugged Giles. “He’s die heir all
right. How does he strike you?”

OS4TK IK THE SfacXS

179

^ ‘*I shtnild hate to be rude about any relative of you*#,**
relied Hanoasyde gdmiy.

“Do you believe his story?”

“No. But I can’t say I disbelieve it either. I’m doing what
I can to clieck up on it, of course — ^without much hope of
success. I’m also making inquiries at all the likely restaurants
— so far wiihout any success at all. I can’t discover where
Arnold Vereker dined on the night of iiis death. I'hat’s what
I rdklly want to know. *\li these suspects, promising as tliey
seem to be, with their motives and their lack of aUbis, are
nothmg but a lot of blind alleys. If Kennctli Vereker didn’t
esdst, everj'thing would point to Roger. But Kenneth does
exist, and tliere’s not a penny to choose between him and
Roger. Both had the same motive, neither has a credible alibi.
But which am 1 to arrest?” He took a salted almond from the
dish in front of him and ate it. “I’m pinmng my hopes to die
finding of the restaurant where lYrnold Vereker dtned that
night, if he did dine at one. Hemingway lias a photograph of
him, which he’s trotting round, and of course we’ve made
inquiries at all his usual haunts. But we have to face the fact
that he may have dined at a private house — ^with one of his
lady-loves probably. I think I’ve seen most of them, but you
never know. At i’avelli’s, where he seems to have been a
pretty frequent visitor, they tell me that he had been in the
habit, lately, of bringing a new lady to dine there — dark,
good-looking girl, unknown to Cavelli. On the other hand,
the head waiter at the ('aft Morny s.tys that the last time
Vereker was there he had an ash-blonae in tow. It isn’t very
helpful, is it?”

“The trouble is, it was too simple a murder,” said Giles.
“Now, had you found my cousin’s body in a locked room,
the key on the inside, aU the windows bolted

Hanoasyde smiled. “Oh yes, that v"' aid have been easy
compared with this,” he said. “We should at least have had

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

iSo

something to go on. It’s always the stiaight-forward killings
that present the worst difficulties. Once people start being
too clever, and try to present us with insoluble mysteries, they
are apt to give themselves away. '1 hese apparently impossible
murders are like a good chess problem — mate in three moves,
and only one possible solution. But when you get a perfectly
simple murder hke this, you can sec u least half a dozen ways
of bringing off a mate, and the I.ord only knows which is the
right onel” ’

Giles picked up the decanter, and refilled both the glasses.
“I see I shall have to take a hand in this myself,” he said
meditatively.

The Superintendent laughed. “Talented amateur, eh? I
wish you lucki”

“You never know,” murmured Calcs.

Hannasyde looked up quickly. “Have you got hold of
something.''”

“Ko,” said Giles. “I can’t say 1 have.”

“1 don’t trust you,” said I lannasydc bluntly. “For tv'o pins
you’d conceal some vital clue from me — ^if you could.”

“Oh no’” said Chles. “Not unless I thought divulging it
would lead to a family scandal. But don’t be alarmed; I
haven’t discovered a vital clue.”

Hannasyde looked suspiaous, but bejond requesting his
host not to attempt to pull 'any Quick- \Katson! stunts during
the course of his amateur investigations, he said no more
about it.

Almost immediately after dinner he took his lt*ave, and
nearly collided on the stairs, on liis way out, with Antoma
Vereker, wbo was being towed up at a great rate by one of her
dogs.

She betrayed no embarrassment at meeting Hannasyde, but
said “Hullo,” in her casual way, adding darkly that she always
knew her cousin was playing a double game.

DEATH IN THE STOCKS l8l

“I shouldn’t be suiprised,” agreed Hannasyde, stooping to
pat Bill. “I’ve just told him I don’t trust him myself.”

She smiled. “He’s nice, isn’t he?” she said ingenuously.

“Very nice.”

There was a quhzical look in Hannasyde’s eye, though h^s
voice remained perfectly grave. Antonia was quite im-
pervious to it. “Rather a bore for htm, all this,” she said.
“Specially as he's always disapproved of us more or less.
However, it can’t be helped.” She nodded in a friendly way,
and went on up the stairs.

The Superintendent resumed his progress down the stairs,
wondering by what sign (hidden from his own trained eye;
Miss Vereker deduced that her cousin disapproved of her.

Disapproval was certamly not the predominant emotion
visible m Giles Carrington’s face when Antonia was ushered
into his sitting room. He got up quickly from a deep chair,
and stretched out his hand. “Tony! My dear child, what on
earth brings you here? Has anything happened?”

“Oh no!” replied Antoma. “Only I got fed up with every -
body at the flat, and thought I’d come and see if you were in.
Can I have some coffee?”

Giles said: “Yes, of course. But you ought not to be here
at all, you know. In fact, as soon as you’ve had your coffee
I’m going to take you home again.”

Antonia sighed. “Sorry; Til go now if you want me to. It
wras only that I suddenly couldn’t bear it any longer, and there
wasn’t anyone but you I could come to. Bxcept Leslie, I
suppose; liut she’s so livid about Roger turning up, ard
dishing Kenneth, that she’s almost as bad as the rest of them.
However, if y^ou’re bored with our rotten aflairs it doesn’t
matter.”

“Sit down,” said Giles, pulling up another chair. “You
know I’m not bored. What’s the matter, chicken?”

She looked up at him, flushing, sudden surprise in her

i 82 death in the stocks

eyes. “Oh, Giks, you haven’t called me that fox yeaxsl” she
said.

“Haven’t I?” he said, smiling down at her. “No, perhaps I
haven’t.”

“You know jolly well you’ve had a hate against me ever
since you were such a vile beast about John I othexinghaml”
said Antoma.

“’^ell, that’s one way of putting it,” said Giles.

“It’s the only way of putting it,” said Antonia iirmly. “In
fart, I practically made up my mind never to speak to you
again, after the things you said to me.”

“You didn’t speak to me agam, 1 ony, for over a year.”

‘ Y cs, I did,” contradicted Antonia. “I spoke to you at the
Dawsons’ danre, and once I had to ring you up about my
Insurance shares. All the same, I wouldn’t have, if I could
have helped it. Only dicu I got myself into this ghastly mess,
and I had to send for j ou to get me out of it.”

Giles w as watchmg her inscrutably. hy, T ony?”

She smiled at him. “IX til — ^well — whom else couTd I have
sent for?” she asked, puzzled.

“Brother — ^fianc^ suggested Giles.

It was evident that this had not previously occurred to her.
“Oh!” she said doubifullv. “\es, I suppose I could, not that
tliey’d have been much use Anyway, I didn’t thmk of them.
And I’m glad I did sent for y ou, because really and truly I was
qmte sick of the hale, and— and you have been frightfully
decent to me ever smee all tlus happened. So I don’t mind
admitting that actually I made a mistake about J ohn — ^though
I still think you were utterly rancid about the whole affair.”
She paused, and then added “I’ve been ratlier wantmg to
bury that hatchet absolutely ever since Arnold was killed, I
did mean to have it all out with you at Hanborough, that day,
only w^htn you turned up it didn’t seem as though we ever
had had a late, and I forgot. Only if you did happen to be

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 183

stiJlfeeling sectcriy stuffy about me, I thought Fd just meotioa
the matter.”

“Tony,” Giles said abruptly, “arc you still engaged to
Mesurier?”

“Yes, and it’s the most vmutterable bore,” she replied, with
her usual shattering honesty. “To tell you the trutli, it was
partly because he turned up at the ilat to-night that I cleared
out.”

“Tony, what in the world did you get engaged to that fellow
for?”

“I can’t make out. It’s all most odd, and I’m inclined to
think I must have been shghtly deranged when 1 did it. But
really, Giles, I thought I liked liim awfully. And Kenneth had
just picked up Violet, and life seemed fairly moth-eaten any-
way, so — so I got engaged to Rudolph. And the funny part
of it is I went on thinking he’d do for ages, and ncvcr«noticed
the things Kennedi kept on pointing out, like showiiig his
teeth too much when he smiles, and wcaimg the sort of smart
clothes that one’s own men don’t wear. And I didn’t see that
he was on the flashy side, till all of a sudden it dawned on me.
I mean, absolutely in a burst. I can tell you die exact date. It
was that Sunday — the day after Arnold was murdered — ^when
we were all in the studio. You w'ere there too, and Violet. It
came over me like a — like a tidal waye, for no reason at all,
\nd now I feel rather rotten about it, because really he didn’t
do anything to make me go clean otf him like that,”

“It doesn’t mattet how rotten you feel about it, Tony.
You’ve got to break it off. 1 Understand?”

“Well, of course I understand. But I can’t break tt Oif wliile
there’s a chance of him being pinched for the murder. It
would be a frightfully mean trick.”

“It’s a much meaner trick to keep him dangling when
you’ve no intention of nuitrying him,”

She considered this. “No, I don’t think it is,” she answered

i 84 death in the stocks

ptesently. “It’s bound to look a bit fishy if I thtour him over
while he’s a suspect.”

* ‘T ony, what if he did it?” Giles asked.

“Oh well, then I shall just have to stick to him!” she said.
“However, I left him proving to everybody how he couldn’t
possibly have done it, so perhaps he didn’t. He’s being rather
pleased with himself at the moment, and that, coming on top
of all the rest, was too much for me, so I bolted.” She turned,
as Giles’s man came into the room with the coffee-tray, and
waited until it had been arranged on a low table beside her
chair, “'lhankyou. Is that cream? Because, if so, lovely!”

“All the rest of what, Tony?” Giles asked, as the door
closed again.

“I’ll tell you. I’ve put two lumps into yours. Is that
enough? Vfcll, to start with, Letlie Rivers drifted in after you
left this afternoon, so I sent Roger out to order more whisky
— it’s completely incredible the amount he puts away, you
know — and then she let fly. Usually she’s a quiet of
creature, and definitely sensible, but — this is absolutely
private, Giles— she's not sane when it comes to Kenneth, and
from the way she talked about Roger, you’d tliink he’d come
home on purpose to do Kenneth an injury. VC ell, I got rather
bored with that, because really and truly it’s Violet who wants
the Vcrcker fortune, much more than Kenneth, and I’ve got a
distinct hope that she may throw him over now that he's poor
‘again. 'Though I’m bound to say that he hadn’t any ex-
portations at all when she got engaged to him, so perhaps she
won’t. Leslie says she doesn’t care tuppence for him, but then
she’s prejudiced. I admit I haven’t much time for Violet
myself — in fart, 1 can’t stand her— but I daresay she feels a
lot more than she shows. She’s the sort that doesn’t give
herself away at all, so you can never tell what she’s thinking.
But that’s not the point. The point is I got bored with Leshe
being intense about the whole situation. She went away after

DEATH IN THE STOCKS l8j

a bit then Kenneth and Violet came back ftotn that matinde in
the middle of a most drivelling row. Apparently some fat old
man with a pearl tie-pin came up to speak to her in the
theatre and, accordmg to Kenneth, called her Vi, and pawed
her shoulder, and was quite obviously one of her past con-
quests. Well, you know what Kenneth is. He promptly went
off the deep end, and came home in one of Ids moods, and
pranced up and down the studio raving at Violet. And
Violet made things worse by saying the Tic-pin was a Big
Man in tlie Qty, and she’d met liiin quite by accident when
she was waiting for a friend in die lounge of some hotel or
other. Well, that didn’t go with a swing by any means, and
Kenneth was extraordinarily rude, and talked about Pick-ups
and things. I hoped Violet would break off the engagement
then and there, but she didn’t. And, of course, I went and
said the wrong thing without in the least meaning to, so
Violet then had a shot at withering me.”

Giles laughed. ' ‘ Vliat a hopeless task! What did you say?”

“Well, I meant it really to be on her side, because Kenneth
was being such an ass, and I said I couldn’t see what he was
making such a song and dance about when he knew perfectly
well that Violet was always getting off with rich men. I
honestly didn’t mean it cattily, but I quite see it may have
sounded like that. All the same, Kenneth must know that she
used to pick up men who could trot her round and give her a
good time, because she’s never made any secret of the fact,
flowcver, he wouldn’t look at it in a reasonable light at all,
and it went on and on till I got so fed-up I could liave
screamed. And then Roger came in, and it was quite obvious
he’d been at a pub all the time, because he was just nicely.”

“Where did he get the money?’’ inquired Giles.

“Took it out of my bag. He said so. N nyway, he was in a
ghastly state.”

Giles was frowning. “Re^y blind?”

i86

D3BATH IK THE STOCl^S -

“No, not in the least. That wouldn’t have inattetc4
because we could have put him to bed. I don’t think he eon
get' decently tight: he’s pickled by this time. He was just
himself, only much more so, and he said the most outrageous
things. He started on poor old Murgatroyd, and kept on
asking her if she rem«nbered the milkman — ^which is
apparently the skeleton in her cupboard, but before my time.
She was fearfully upset, but nothing trould stop Roger telling
us the whole story, because, though Kenneth might have
thrown him out, he was glooming about Violet, and wouldn’t
pay any attention. So Violet took a hand, and was excessively
sweet and charming to Roger, and I’m damned if he didn’t
say it was no use her making up to him, because he was too
ej^rienced to be caught, and didn’t admire her type anyway.
I will say this for Violet: she took it very well; but even she
looked pretty peeved when Roger told Kenneth he could cut
out with her if he wanted to, but didn’t.”

“Vf'hat a party!” Giles exclaimed. “Plow longed this go
on?” ♦

“Oh, till Rudolph turned up after dinner. Roger started
on him then. He wanted to know why he had sucli wavy hair,
and said he didn’t like it; and when he heard he was engaged
to me he ashed me what on earth I could possibly see in him.
That sort of tiling. Rudolph realized he was a trifle screwed,
of course, and pretended not to listen. The last I saw of them,
Roger was still going on about my being batty to marry
Rudolph, and Rudolph was holding forth about not having
murdered Arnold, and Kenneth was snapping at everybody in
turn. So I cleared out, and came to talk to you. This is very
good coffee.”

“I’m glad. When is Roger going to leave the studio?”

“As soon as he can. I must say, I’m thankful to you
and Gordon Truelove for letting him have some cash. I
don’t mind him as much as PCenneth does, but I couldn’t

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 187

Stand much more of him. He’s going to take a service-
flat.”

service-flat! Why the devil can’t he go and stay in
Eaton Place?”

*^He says it isn’t his style. Kenneth had a friendly spasm
when he heard that, but it turned out that he meant he
couldn’t stand having a lot of servants about. He said it
would fidget him. So Violet — who badly wants I at on Place
— backed him up, and said she knew of a very good block.
I gather she means to take liim by the Imnd and lead him to a
flat.”

Violet behaving with real nobility i>f character, or is she
actually trying to catch Roger?”

“I don’t know, i shouldn’t think she can be trying to catch
him, because she needn’t have got engaged to Kenneth in the
first place if she was set on manydng a rich man.”

“Rich men aren’t always so keen on marriage, Tonv.”

*'No, I daresav tliey aren’t. But I think m)self that she’s
making up to Roger in the hope of getting liim to give
Kenneth a large allowance. Not that Kenneth would accept
it, because be wouldn’t.”

‘‘Kenneth seems to be taking this pretty badly,” (hies
said. “Yet I shouldn’t have said that he caicd much about
mr)ney.”

“IJc doesn’t, but of course he is nilhcr hard-up at the
moment, and after thinking you’re next door to being a
millionaire, it must be fairly sickening 10 iind jou’re just as
poor as you ahva}S were.” ^he got uji, aiid fi stcncvl Ivs Icasl
to Bill’s collar. “I’d better go, I suppose. Do m>u know%
Giles, I’m almost beginning to wish Arnold hadn’t
murdered?”

“Tony, you’re atrocious”’

“Well, but it did look goc^d at first, you must admit. Only
now wc all seem to be in a mess over it, and everything’s

7

i88

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

rather wearmg I’m glad we’ve got you. You’re about the
only dependable thing we have got.”

“ 1 hank you, 1 ony,” he said, smihng a little
**J^nd I’m glad we’ve defimtdy buried the hatchet. I hkc
jou, (iiles ”

‘‘Think again/’ he said

She frov ned “ W hy^ Don’t you believe me^”

“Oh jes, I helie\c )ou,” ne icplied “Imt I’ve neve^
thought half a toil Ijettei than no breid, my dear ”

cil\ptj:r XVII

Upon the following morning, his inebriety having worn off,
Roger cheerfully explained his condition as having been due
to enforced abstinence for so long. This roused Kenneth to
tell him exactly bow many bottles of whisky he had consumed
since his arrival at the studio, but Roger merely said: ‘‘W ell,
you don’t call that anything, do you?” and the conversation
dropped.

Violet came in soon after breakfast, a circumstance which
induced Kenneth, still in a bitter mood, to ask her savagely
whether she ever did any work at all. lie himself was* in his
overall, sc(jwling at the half-finished canvas on the easel.
Violet refused lo take offence at his tone, pnd replied that she
had ahead) sent off a coupk of fashion-drawings by post, am!
thought that slic was entitled to a holiday.

‘T sec,” Kenneth said. ‘T Jcvo< lug it to me, of course.”

‘‘No, dear, I’m not,” replied Violet calmly. “You ate far
t('o disagreeable, let me tell you. 1 am going to tiy and fi\
your hah broths r up in a pLicc of h»s own.”

“Sv/cct of you, ni} pet, 1 hope he’ll appicciatc ?11 this puie
alti uisni.”

Viijlct stood for a moment, hir lips slightly compressed.
Then she wJked across tlie rocmi to Kenneth’s side, and lud
her hand on his arm. “Kenneth dear, wiU }ou m and be
reasonable?” she begged. “We must get R<>gcr away
from here. lie’s making you impossible to live with.
You know quite well heTl never move unLss lie’s made
to, and if neither you nor Tony will (lo an\ thing about
it, it’s up to me. I think you might be a httle giatefnl, I must
say.”

189

IJO DEATH IN THE STOCKS

“You’re doing it for what you can get out of him,”
Kenneth said.

She was silent for a moment, llicn she said: “Well, what
if I am? \)i'hy shouldn’t he do something for ub? I don’t want
to be poor, if you do.”

lie looked at her with nirrowed eyes. “Gold digging, eh?
Do you care for anything else, ray girl? Do you.^”

She sttffcneti. “I’m not going to be spoken to like that,
Kenneth. I’ll go.”

Ihcre was a pause. Kenneth had turned back to h<s work,
for the iirst time indifft rent to her anger. She moved towards
the door, but looked back bcfoie she opened it. Her voice
clianged. She said gently: “if ytiu want to bretk off our
engagement, please tell nv ' Do you, Kenneth^”

He did not answer for a moment, bat swung round, and
stood looking at her undet scowling brows. “I don’t know,”
he said at last.

She remained quite still, lining her gieat eyes dn his. lie
put down his piktte suddenly, and strode across the tloor to
lict side, and pulled her roughly into his arms. “No. No, I
don’t. Damn you, v >u’vc no heart, but I’m going to punt
you like that, against the door, with the light falling |ubt so”

She returned h's embrace, and took his face between her
blender hands. “Try not to mistrust me, darling It hurts.”

“Lease Roger alone, then,” he replied

cs, dear, as soon as I’ve got liim out of this plao.' I will,”
she promised. “You can’t really suppose that he’s of any
interest to me ”

He let the subject drop, but might well have pursued it
more rigorously had he but heard what his half brother was
saying to Antonia at that very moment.

Roger, who said that the sight of Kenneth dabbing at a
picture was very unrestful, had sought refuge in the kitdien,
where he found Antonia busily engaged in ironing handker-

DbATH IN THE STOCKS

191

chiefs. This was a hardly less disturbing sight tlian that of an
artist at work, but it had the advantage of being unaccom-
panied by the smell of turpentine. Having a.sccrtaincd tliat
Murgatroyd had gone out to do the marketing, Roger sank
into the basket-chair by the fire, and Jit a cigarette.

“"b ou’Jl catch it if Murgatroyd comes in,” Antonia warned
liim.

“I daresay she won’t for a bit,” said Roger hopefully.
“That girl’s here again.”

“Vv ho? Violet.-'”

“She’s going to find me a service-flat.”

“Good,” said Antonia. “Tlte sooner the bcltci.”

“Now, don’t you get spiteful!” said Roger. “P.ccause for
one thing I quite like you, and for another I’ve got a good
idea.”

“Why on earth do you like me?” demanded y\ntonia,
curious but ungrateful.

“[don’t know, "^’ou can’t account for these things. Mind
30U, I don’t like that pimple you’re got yourself engaged to,
but that’s neither here nor there, and as far as 1 can see you
won’t marry him. However, tliat wasn’t wiiat 1 wanted to
say. 1 his Violet girl.”

“Wliat about her?”

“W eU, I tliink it would be a g<K>d idea to get rid of her. I
mean, do you want her joining the family?”

“Not particularly.”

“Cf course not. W ho would? I know her t jqjc. Gh-e her
three months, and she’ll be managing the lot of us, and talLng
me into giving Kenneth more money than T’vc got. You may
think I don’t bother my head over these things, but tltat’s
where you’re wrong. When I haven’t got anything else to do
I think a lot, and, of course, it’s quite obvious that she’s not at
all the sort of girl Kenneth ought to many.”

“How do you propose to stop him?”

19Z DEATH IN- THE STOCKS

“Well,” said Roget, tipping the ash of his cigarette vaguely
in the direction of the stove, “Kenneth seems to be a jealous
young cub. Flies off the handle at nothing. My idea was that
if I took Violet about a bit it might lead to the engagement's
being broken off.”

“Yes,” said Antonia. “But it might lead to a new one^s
being formed.”

A gleam crept into Roger’s eyes. “If she’s clever enough
to catch me, she can keep me,” he said. “She won’t be the first
to try, not by a long chalk.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Antonia said slowly. “Only I doubt
if you’ll succeed in taking Violet in. She’s no fool.”

“Anyv’ay,” satd Roger, “she might just as well be useful as
not, and there’s bound to be a lot to do settling me into a flat.”

“Arc \ou trying to lure Violet just to mo\e you into a
flat?” Antonia inquired scornfullv.

“\X ell, someone’s got to do it,” he pointed out. “Kot that
that’s mv only rtason, because it isn’t. 1 ar from it. ♦Now I’ve
come into all tliis money I shall go about iPbit here and there,
and she’s a very good sort of a gitl to take around. V/hat 1
mean is, she’s smart, and she won’t want me to tlunk out
what she’d like to cat. If there’s (me tlung that wears me out
quicker than anytliing it’s ha\ mg to c1h>osc a lot of food for
someone else to eai. FtsidwS, if she’s supposed to be going to
be my sister in law J shan’t have to be polite. Kot that I warn
to be rude, but I find ccremrmy very cvruusling. And,
talking of things being exhausting, they tell me I own the
mine now.”

“1 thought It was a limited company.”

“Yes, but I’ve got all Arnold’s shares, which apparently
gives me control. ()t course I’ve notlung against holding the
shares, but I’m not going to control the mine. It’s absurd. I
suppose Kenneth wouldn’t like to be chairman^”

“I shouldn’t tliink so,” said Antonia indifferently. “But

DEATH IN THESTOCKS 193

why worry? You may be arrested for murdering Arnold
before you have to tliink about appointing chairmen.”

Roger blinked at her, and said uneasily: don't sec v, 7 hy

you need bring that up, just when I’d forgotten about it. Ihc
fact of the matter is 1 don’t hke it. Not that I did murder
Arnold, because such an idea never entered n.y head, but it’s
no good saying people don’t get convicted of crimes the\
didn’t commit. Very often they do. Let alone that it’s ver^
disturbing to have a lot of detectives wnli their ejes glued on
you. '1 hat's <mc reason wliy 1 shall be glad xn get out of this
place. I can't stand having that Superintendent bobbing in
and out like .l dog at a f.ur. It's n(»t my idea ot romfoit, by
any means. If he thinks he's going to treat my iiat like
own house he’s mistaken, and that's all there is to it.”

Antonia pur the iron back on the stove. ^\ji]cs wants' ti'
know why }ou can't li\e in i aton Place,” she observed.

“Pccausc I don’t want to be bothered with a great house
like that, and a lot of servants worrying me to know whether
I'll be in to lunch, and what PJ like to weir. r)rsidis, if you
run a pack of sen^ants you have to k^ok after them. I’ve
already told Kenneth he can ha\c Faton Place, which, of
course, is why Violet’s so keen on fiviiig me up in a flat.”

“One thing I will say for you, Roger,” remaiked Antonia,
preparing to depart, “}ou may be an ass in some ways, but
there aren’t many Hies on you. ^M1 the same, there aren't
many on Violet eitlicr, so don’t be too optimistic about
cutting Kenneth out.” She paused, as a thought occurred to
her, and added: “I suppose you couldn’t see }our way to
marrjn'ng her? Then Kenneth could marry Leslie, and every
thing w^ould be splendid. Violet would make you rather a
good wife, too.”

“No one would make me a good wife,” replied Roger
simply. “Moreover, if by f eslic you meaa that girl who was
here yesterday, I don’t tliink it would be splendid at all. We

194 ‘D&ATH IN THB STOCKS

shouldn’t get on. Eveiy time I meet het she looks at me as
though she’d like to murdet me. It’s very unnerving, I can
tell you.”

At tliis moment the door opened and Violet looked into the
kitchen. “Oh, you are here!” she said. “1 heard someone
talking, so [ tiiought it must be you two.”

Antonia could not help wondering how much she had
heard, and had the grace to blush. However, Violet was not
paying any attention to her. She suggested to Roger that
they shduld go out together to look at flats, and added, with a
thoughtful glance at his suit, tliat she knew of a very good
tailor if he liad not already got one of his own.

Antonia, seeing Roger go off meekly in Violet’s wake, was
more than ever convinced that she would be the very person
for him to marry.

Tlic events of the next few days did nothing to weaken this
conviction. Not only was Roger installed in a furnished flat,
but an entire wardrobe was purchased for hiij», so that
Kenneth regained possession of lus shirts and py)anias, and
Murgatroyd was induced to look upon Violet for tlic first
time with approval.

Roger was so well pleased wrth his flat that he roused
himst If sufficiently to give a dinner party as a sort of house-
warniinv, and in\ ittd not only his half bnither and sister, but
Violet and (iiles as well. He did not invite Mesurier, for
various couiprcliensh c rcasono whidi he was quite ready to
expound to any and everybody. It had naturally been im
possible to keep Mtsuner’s financial antics a secret from him,
and he was onlv deterred from dismissing him from the firm
by Kenneth’s warning tliat to do so would be tantamount to
fixing the date of lus wedding to Antoma. “If you want that
tailor’s dummy for a brother-in law, let me tell you that I
don’t!” said Kenneth.

"Certainly not,” said Roger. “In fact, that was why I

DBAYH IN THE STOCE» XJJ

thought I’d sad him. Tliough, mind you, I should Lke to
sack him on m> cijn account, because for one thing I don’t
care for him, and for anothtr I’m all for sacking someont just
to see "what it hke.”

“I suppose jou only know what it feels like to be sacked,”
remarked Kenneth waspishly.

“t-xactlv,” nodded Roger, utterly impervious to this or an\
other insult. “And, fuimily enough, the ) i^-t time I got the
boot It was for almost the same thing ( ^nlv, as it happens, f
wasn’t thinking of paying the money back. I don’t say 1
mightn’t have thought of it if I’d had any means of douig n,
but I hadn’t. However, if vou tluiik sad mg \ csurier will
make lony marry him, J won’t do it. i'ccmse il •-lu marr'cs
him she’ll expect me to call him Rudolph, and 1 don’t mmd
telling you that I don’t like the name. In fact, I tl>mk it’s a
damn’ silly name. \\ hat’s more, if I had to c>l! lum h\ it I
should fed very selt conscious Not that I iially like CiiJts
athcr, but that’s merely a matter of taste, i 1 cn ’s notlung
against the name as a name, nothing at all.”

He startled Kenneth, who lool ed up quirdy and said

“Giles^ Do you mean Rot' She hasn’t been on spexking

terms with him for monthsl”

“I don’t know anything about that,” answt-Rd Ro.,ei.
“All I do know is that if this Rudolph excrescent c can be
shifted, Tony will marry Oiks ”

“^ell, I hope V ou may be right,” said Kenneth. “Giles is a
nice chap. 1 must keep m eye on them ”

“If you take my adviec you’ll keep your eye on your own
pictures,” said Roger ‘ I don’t say ! wouleln’t rathei look at
almost anything else myself, but probably y^ou don’t feel like
that about them.”

“I don’t,” said Kenneth, on whom such inexpert criticism
of lus work made no impression at .til “And don’t go
puttmg your foot mf o it by sacking Mesuntx.”

DEATH IM THE STOCKS

^196

""Vf cllj, alJ right/* agreed Roger. *"Only I won’t have him
at my party,”

Mention of the party made Kenneth at once point out to
him tlial his home-coming was no occasion for rejoicing for
anyone but lumself. fie said that he had no intention of being
piesent, but in the end he was present, not as a result of any
persuasion on i<.C)gcr's part, but l^ecause Violet had coaxed
liim into it. She was unusually kind to him throughout the
evening, and paid so little heed to Roger that he became quite
good-humouk‘d after a while, and even enlisted Roger’s
support in an argument with Violet on the question of
whether or not it was indecent to attend a public dance
within a fortnight of Arnold’s death. .\s this discussion was
started in the restaurant wJikh was attached to the fiats, and
conducted with a total disregard for whoever might ovcrlicar
It, a good many shocLed glances were cast at the Verekers’
t ible, and one stickler fi^r the proprieties spent the rest of the
c\cning composing a letter of complaint to the landlord.

As might have been expected, Violet was lirm in refusing to
countenance the bare mAion of appearing at the ball, which
was to take place three s later. Slie said that there was such
a thing as respect to the dead, to which Kemieth replied that
he had no m(»ie respect for Arnold dead than he had had for
Arnold alive. “I’csidcs, I paid thirty bob for the tickets, and
Fm going to use them,” he added.

“You could sell them,” Violet pointed out. “Don’t you
agree with me that he ought to, Mr. Farrington?”

“Yes, on the whole I think T do,” replied Ciilcs. “You’re
not going, arc you, Tonv?”

“No,” said Antonia. “Because Rudolph can’t manage that
night.”

“If Violet w^on’t come. I’ll take you, Tony,” said Kenneth,
glancing provocatively at his betrothed. “And if you won’t.
I’ll take Leslie;”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

* 9 ?

“I’ve already told you, darling, I’m not going with you,’’
Violet said. “V e should be bound to meet any number of
people we know, and what they would think I daren’t
imagine! Tony can please herself, but I h<»pe she has too
much sense, let alone proper feeling, to go near the ball.”

“ ‘After this short speech, they all cheered,’ ” said Kenneth
instantly. “Vl’ill you come, 1‘ony?”

“She’s dining with me, and going to a show,” inteqioscd
Giles.

“I «ec. Thus evincing a proper respect for tHc dead.”

Giles laughed. “Mote or less. )ll you come, Ttiiiy?”

“Yes, please,” said Antonia. “Is it a party, or )ust us^”

“Of course it’s not a party,” said Kenneth. “ \v hen ’s your
sense of decency?”

“I’ve no doubt these little rocial cohveram r seem absurd to
you, dear,” remarked Vjolct, “but Mr. ( arrmgton is perfectly
right. Cjoing to a public ball and dining quietly witlt someone
at a restaurant are two entirely different tlungs.”

“V hat a discerning inind you have got, my pet!” said
Kenneth admiringly.

“Now, don’t start quarrelling,” besought Roger. “I’er-
sonally. I’ve no objection to Kenneth’s going to the ball, none
at all. If I wanted to go to it, which I don’t, I shouldn’t bother
about whether it was decent or not for an instant.”

“I'hat we believe,” said (lile;. ‘’Oh, I’m )our guest!
Sorry, Roger, but j ou asked for it.”

“You needn’t trouble about my fceimgs, because they’re
not easily hurt,” replied Roger. “My theory is th.u everybody
should do just what they hie. There's a great deil too much
interference in this world. If Kciuieth wants to go to a d.ince,
why shouldn’t he? And if Violet doesn’t wont to, that’s her
affair. I’ll tell you what; you come and have dinner here with
me, Violet.”

This casual invitation produced a noticeable tension in two

198 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

at least of the party. Antonia, thinking it a trifle crude,
stowled at Roger, and Kenneth fixed Violet with a smoulder-
ing gaze, awaiting her answer.

She excused herself gracefully, but failed to satisfy Ken-
neth, who harked back to the invitati(^n on the way home, and
informed her that in case she liad any idea of spending the
evening with Roger she could get rid of it immediately.

‘‘Darling, how silly you are!^^ she sighed. )f course, I'm
not going to do any sucli thing! Didn't you hear me refuse?"

“1 heard,'* Kenneth said rather grimly. “But it also
transpired, my love, in the course of Roger’s artless chatter,
that you dined with him two nights ago— a circumstance
hitherto unkiKAvn to me."

She coloured slightly. “Uh, you mean the night you were
out!" she said. “\\ ell, what if I did? 1 ony apparently vent
off with Rudolph, and poor Roger was left alone in tlic flat. I
merely took pitA on him."

ou ha\c a lovely nature, my sweet. I siippose^t slipped
your memorv, whiJi was why you forgot to tell me about it."

“I knew you would make a ridiculous fuss if I did tell you,"
replied Vi(>lct, in her calm way. “You're so taken up with
your own gTic\ancc, Kenneth, that you don't sec that
Roger's really rather a pathetic figure."

“No, I can't say that I do."

“Veil, I find him so. If he did commit the murder, c^f
course it's dreadful, but I can't help fethng sorry for him.
7 he whole thing is very much on his mind. 1 know he
pretends it isn’t, but he has the idea that the police are
watching him all the time."

“Form of D.7’.," said Kenneth callously, “The police
haven't anv more ri'ason to suspect Roger than they have to
suspect me. It’s time w^e gave up thinking about it. No one
will ever be arrested; and, what's more, the police know it.
Are you coming to the Albert Hall Ball, or are you not?'^

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

m

‘"But, darling, IVe told you already ”

“I.ook here, Violet^” he said forcibly. “Let’s gel things
straight* I’ve no u^e for any of your conventio is, an 1 f never
shall have. If you mean to marrv me you’ll hi^n: t > accept
that.”

He sounded a Lftlc dangerous, and she oncv. s^-opped
trying to argue with him, and set hcrselt to coax him out of Iiis
bitter mood. When they parted he had sol d t owanls her,
and she had said that perhaps she v/oulJ f^o to mic ball with
him jf he was so sc t on it. A quin d v is thus happil / iv ci ted,
but when at hdf past on the day of the h dl she arrived at
the studio, and said gently thit really s le diln’t I'lnk she
could £to itter all, because she hid a bad hcidicht , kv. incJi
looked her up and doun for one minute, and thv n strode over
to the tek phono and cillcd I cslic Kivcrs’ number

Violet s ud nothing, but stor)d lool ing out oi t*^e window
while Kenneth airan-^cd to call for Ledic to tike 1 ci out to
diiinci at a cjuartor to cn^hr Appart iitlv I csl o h *d no riupLs
about attending the bill in his company, ind t Has with a
glint of tiiumpli in his t}cs that Kenneth glanced tow luK his
1 ancce as he put clown tlie receiver “Cu) lio ne and nurse
^ GUI headache, dailing ” he said sweetly, “r )r ba^e you otbci
plins^ I’m sorry I can’t spare time to dismiss rhc.nwitl
) ou, but I’m going to hive a bith a id cliangt '*

Antonia, who hid enteted the room it the heoin img of tlu^
scene, and had Lx cn a sik nt but critical audience of the whole,
watched him go out, and then looked at Vi(jkt with » cert iin
amount of contempt “s'^cll, you’ve mucked tli.t pnttv
successfully,” she observed. “I s^^'ould bise thou^hr in cone
with a giain of sense would ha\c known bette l ^hin to hive
tried to pull tint trick on Kenneth ”

“Would you^” said Violet smoothly

“I should. If you’d stuck to your orip ml No he pnibibly
wouldn’t have gone — not that I can see that it matters

zoo

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

whether he goes or doesn’t. But if you wanted to make him
utterly pig-headed about the whole thing, you’ve gone the
right way to work. I never thought you were such an ass.
Help me to do up this frock for the lord’s sake! Giles will be
here b> seven, and I’ve got a couple of letters I must write
before 1 go.”

Giles arrived at seven o’clock to find her standing in
the middle of the room with Violet kneeling on the floor
at her feet, mending a tear in the hem of her chiffon
frock. *

Antonia said penitently; “Oh, C/iles, I’m so sorry to be
late, but I had to dash off two letters, and then 1 went and
stuck my heel through this accursed skirt. I shan’t be a
minute.'’

“If you’d only stand still'” begged Violet. ‘A ou’ve got
some ink on. > our finger, too.”

“I'll wash It off. '1 honks awfully, Violet. Could you also
find a couple of stamps, and stick them on mv kttfrs'r' Top
drawer of my bureau, 1 Hunk.”

“Yes, I’ll see to thetn.’’ said Violet soothingly. “Hurry up
and wash and get your ckiak.” She found the stamps, after a
little search, Iim d tl cm to the letters, and said with her slow
smile: “Rather a miracle to ('nd a stamp in this house. Tell
Tony I’ve taken the letters, and will post them on my way
home, will y ou, Mr. ( ariington?”

“You ore nc^t going to **1110 ball?” Giles asked. “I
thought ”

“No, I am not going,’’ she replied. “I shall spend a quiet
evening at home instead. I hope you enjoy your theatre.
Good-night!”

He escorted her to the front door, and opened it for her. As
he shut it again behind her Antonia came out of her bedroom,
her evening coat tumbled over her arm. He took it from her,
and helped her to put it on. “Violet has gone,” he remarked.

DEAXH IN THE STOCKS

201

“I thou{>;ht you told me she was going to the \lber+ Hall show
after alP”

cs, but she changed h< r mind, and cime to tell Kenneth
sojuetnow. So the balloon 'Vvcnt up good and propel Have
you gi >t my letters?”

“Violet look them.”

“Oh, that’s all right then. I’ve been writing a pretty
thank you letter to Rogti. ”

“ \ wh ’t?” demanded Crile^.

Shf gunned. i s, 1 thought you’d be surprised Lut it
had to be done y\rcording to Rudolph, he dii't^d into the
Shan 1 lills oH ce this morning, and sent for Rudolph, and told
him It was <*11 right about cooking the jccoiuits, and sufl be
wasn’t going to do .my thing . bont it Rudolph rang me up at
lunch time, and I must say I dunk it’s e'^tienielv decent cjf
Roger — parfieularly as lie dot ^ n’t bke Rudolph \nd it only
we ean ek '■r Rudolph or u'^pieion oi havin'*^ done \ruold in,
I can break ofl the en ,iotment vith a clear eonstuiuf she
added happily .

aiAPTiiR xvm

GiLrs Carringion had just finished his breakfast next
morning when the telephone rang, ai d his man came in after a
short pause to say that Superintendent Hannasyde would like
to speak to him,

Giles laid dbwn liis napkin, rose m a leisurely way to his
feet, and strolled out into the hall of his flat, and picked up the
telephone receiver. “Jlullo'” he said, “(^arrington speaking.
What can I do for j ou? V erv bright and early, aren’t ) ou?”

Tlie Superintendent’s voice sounded unwonredly sliarp.
“I’m speaking from Scfitland Yard. Roger Vereker is dead.”

Ihc lairy smile was wiped from (ales (^iiington’s face.
He said inctedulously: ‘"W'hc’i? Sa\ that again!”

“Roger — Vciel^ct -is -dead,” enunciated the iJupciin-
tendent witli great cl itity.

“(joodCjod' lint how — where^”

“In his ilat. I’ve onlv just had the news.”

“P/'U- -} t >u don’t mean murdered, do you?”

“I don’t know. 1 he Divnional Inspector seems to think
It’s suilkIc. I’m going round immediately.”

“I’ll join you there,” Coles said.

“Ciood, 1 hoped you would Vve may want you,” replied
Hannasyde.

Roger Vereker 's flat was in a new block erected betw'^een
Queen’s Cjate and I xliibition Road. Giles C’arrington arrived
there shortly behind the Superintendent, and was admitted to
Roger’s flat on the second floor by the plain-clothes man
stationed at the door. In the hall of the flat Sergeant Heming-
way was interrogating a frightened housemaid, who ex-
plained, between sobs, that she had come up to “do” the flat

202

0BATH IN THB STOCKS IO 3

at seven o’clock that morning, and had found the poor
gentleman dead in his chair. She did not suppose that she
would ever recover from tlie shock.

The Sergeant nodded to Gilts. “Good niormng, sir.
you’ll find tlie Supeimtcndent in tliere,” lit said, jerking fus
thumb in the direction of the sitting-room.

Nothing had been touclied there as jet, and the first thing
that met Giles’s eyes as he entered the room was the figure 01
Roger Vereker, seated m a chair turned a little away from his
desk. He had fallen forward; his head rt sted tin the edge of
the desk, and his right ami hung loosely down to the grt/und
An automatic jiistol lay on the floor just under his hand, and
there was an ugly wound in his right temple, from which the
blood had run down his fire and arm, to form a congeahng
pool on tlie pile carpet.

Ihe Supeiinteiidcnt was hstening to what a dapper
Inspector liad to say, bat he looked round as ( ik . entered,
and smiled. “Good man. I hope you don’t luitid, we’ll have
It taken away in a nunute ’’

“I can put up with it,” Giles said rather shortly, his
frowmng eyes on Roger’s body.

'Jhe Superintendent said: “\ou’te qmck. I’ve only just
arrived mjsclf. I’m afraid he’s been dead some hours.” He
turned back to tlic Inspector, and nodded to lum to continue

The Inspector had not much to tell, A maidservant, whose
duty it was to sweep and dust the flat before brt.akfast, lud
entered at seven o’clock, using a pass -1 ey, and hid been sur-
prised to find tlic hall hglit still on. She had switched it oiT,
concluding that it had been forgotten overnight, and lud then
noticed a streak of light under tlie sitting room door. She
had opened the door and had found tlie tqom lit by elci tricity,
all the curtains drawn, the ashe'> of a dead fire in the grate,
and Roger Vereker dead in his chair. S*ie had let fall her
dustpan and brushes, and rushed screaming from the

204 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

flat, downstairs, to sob out her discovery to the hall-porter.

The porter’s first action had been to go upstairs and see for
himself, but one glance had been enough to satisfy him that
this was a case for the pohcc, and before notifying the
manager of the flats, who occupied a suite on tlie ground
floor, he had rung up the police station.

A Sergeant had come round at once, with the police-
surgeon, and, upon discovering tlie name of the deceased, had
instantly connected it with the Verekir cisc, which he hid
been followin^in the nc wspapeis with a good deal of interest.
He had taken care to touch n(»thmg in the flat, but had
notified the Station Sergeant, v*^ho, in his turn, had rung up
the Divisional Inspector.

‘‘And thougli it lorAs like an orclinirv suicide. Super
intendent, 1 thought proper to advise )ou befor^
furthci,” ended the Inspector.

‘‘Quite light,” llann.'sjde answered. He ghneed down at
tliC pistol, and then at the dead ii in, Iijs lips sligluly^pursed.
“Vke’ll have a photogiaph, I tliink,” he decided, and opened
the door to give a brief order.

sergeant Hemingway ^amc in with the photographer, and
went to stmd beude (iilcs ( arrmgton w'liL tlie flashlight
photograph was taken, and the dead man's bc>dy removed.
“Loc'ks lil.e we know who murdcrcfl \niold Virekcr, sir,”
he said cheerfully.

‘Tt does, dcjcsn’t it^” agreed (dies.

1 he Sergeant looked sharply up at him. ‘’‘You don’t think
so, sir? Now, why^”

‘T didn’t say so,” replied Cjik^s, his ga/e resting for a
moment on a meerschaum pipe lying on the mantelpiece.

‘Tt fits togetlier all riglit,” argued the Sergeant. “lie knew
we were on lus track, guessed, maybe, we should break tliat
ahbi of his; lost his nerve; and put a bullet through his head.
It fits; you can’t say it doesn’t, sir.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

ZO5

“No, it fits beautifully,” said Giles.

“And still you don’t like it. Would it be family feeling, sir,
if I may make so bold as to ask?”

Giles shook his head. By this time the body had been taken
out on a stretcher, and Superintendent Hannasyde, having
got rid of the Inspector, was looking thoughtf Lilly at the desk.
He turned after a moment and said briskly: “Well, what
about it — ^Mt. Holmes? I’m not going to waste any time
commiserating with you on the death of your rousin, because
I Icnow enough of your family by now to be sure not one of
you will feel the slightest regret. What do you make of tliis?”

“Obviously suidde,” drawled (oles.

“H’m! I don’t think i>iuch of you as a detective. Nothing
strike you as being a little unusual?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“Or docs it, .tnd arc you hoping it doesn’t strike me?”

Giles smiled. “1 hn c things — at first glance.”

“I'hree?” Hannasyde looked round the room. “Now, I
only spotted two. This >s interesting. '1 here is first the glass
of uhisky-and soda on the desk. I can rcadilv imagine Roger
Verekor drinking that prior to shooting himself. \\ liat I can’t
imagine is liim pouring it out and leaving it untouched.
Secondly- -though I don’t know that tt signifies much — ^is his
position. It struck me so forcibly that I had that photogtaph
taken. He was turned away frem li's dc sk. 1 ake a look at the
angle of the chair. \\ hy had he shifted it.^ Ifhc sat at his desk,
presumably' he had been writing. But he could not have
written at it seated almost sideway s.”

“That’s right,” agreed the Sergeant. “You mean he pulled
the chair round a bit to talk to someone else in the room?”

“I think he might have done so.” Hannasyde took
out his handkcrcliief, and with it opened the leather
blotter on the desk. A sheet of nompaper lay in it. He
picked it up, read it, and handed it to Giles. “WelP” he
said.

zo6

DEATH IK THE STOCKS

The letter, written in Roger’s untidy scrawl, was dated the
day before, and was unfinished.

*‘Dear Sirs” it began. “"Lfieloscd pleate firi chequt for
6s. id. tn pqyMevt of jom ucconnt hnwUh. I should he glad
if you would send me

There the brief note ended.

“■Docs that seem odd to you, or not^’’ inquired Hannasyde.

“It dots,” ?aid Giles. “Roger in the act of paving a bill
seems more than odd to me.”

“In some wa>s )()u are very like your cousins,” said
Hannasyde tartly.

“Interrupted,” said the Sergeant, in his turn reading the
note. “Stands to reason he wouldn't want anything scut him
if he ineanr to commit suicide. Somctliing might have
happened to make him do it after tlie interruption, of conise.
\ ou can’t tell. But certainly he was uiterrupred. Saythere^s a
ring at the door bell, Super, I le slips the letter into his blotter
— or no^ he has the blotter open, writing in it. All he does is
to close it while he goes to see who’s at Lire door. Sort of
instinctive movement, if you follow me.”

“Yes, something like that,” Hannasyde said. “But we
haven’t heanl Mr. ( aumgton’s tJurd point yet.”

Giles, ^vhose good humoured countenance had grown
rather grim, said.

“Arc \"ou a pjsi ol shot, Hannas j de?”

“No, I can't say I am.”

“So 1 should suppose. Your expert w(ui’t like He

pointed to the ground at his feet, where, lialf hidden in the
shaggy hearth-rug, a carttidgc-easc gleamed.

Both men looked down “Yes, Fd already seen it,”
Hannasyde said. “It’s in the wrong place? Is that it?”

“That’s it,” nodded Giles. “If Roger Vereker, seated in

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

ZOJ

that chaii, put the pistol to his right temple and pulled the
trigger, the empty cartridge-case ought to be sf>mcwhetc
between the desk and the t^indow, not here by the fire.” fie
lit a cigarette, and flicked the dead match behind him, into the
grate. His eyes measured the distance between liimsclf and
the chair by the desk. “I think, when the auu -psy takes place,
you will find that the pistol was not held quite so close to the
head,” he remarked.

“Thanks,” Ilannasydc said, glancing curiously at him. “I
seem to have been domg you a certain ainoun? of injustice. I
suspected you of being more anxious to impede rJian to
assist — on this pamcular case.”

“One niurderl can stomacli,” replied Oiks shortlv. “Ifind
my gorge turns a bit at two of them. Moreover -bad lot
though he was — Roger was utterly inoflensivc. '! iiere might
be sevcial pardonable reasons fur killing Arnold only one
reason for kilhng Rfigtr, and that one not pai Jonable. No,
definitely ito/ paidonablc.”

“Quite,” s.iid llanruisyde. His cy<.s nairou 'd suddenly,
looking at something beyond Ciilcs. “Was your cousin a
pipe smoker?”

“1 don’t tliink so.”

Ilannasy^de stepped forward and looked more rl()<-ely al the
pipe on the mantelpiece. “A meer'-cliaum, cokmrod more on
one side than the other,” he said. “[ hmey 1 have seen it
before.”

“Possibly*,” said Ciilcs. “It belongs to Kenneth. But 1
shouldn’t build on it as a clue. Kenneth was one of a party
held at this flat three— four evenings ago.”

“W’ouldn’t he miss his pipe^” inquired the Sergeant.
“I’d miss a pipe of mine quick enough. The dottle’s in
it still, what’s more. You’d c\pcct Roger Vcmkei to have
seen it and knocked it out, and sent iSj pipe back to I'is
brother.”

20S

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

“On the contrary,” said Giles, “I shouldn’t expect Roger
to do anything so energetic.”

“You ate probably right,” said Hannasyde, “but a little of
the ash has fallen out of the pipe, as you see. Would you not
expect the housemaid who cleans this flat to have dusted that
away?”

“It depends on the housemaid,” aj’swered tiles.

Hannasyde picked the pipe up, and slipped it into his
pocket. “I’ll sec the hall porter, IJemingway,” he said. “Ask
lu'm to come u^, will you?”

Giles smiled. “I take it you’d hkc me to stay? — to be sure
that 1 don’t get to Chelsea ahead of you?”

“Quite right, I would,” answered Hannasyde. “Not that
I tliink you’d do that, but at this stage I’m taking no risks.
Would you have said that Roger Vereker was hkely to
commit suicide?”

“No, I shouldn’t,” said t>ilcs. “He certainly complained
that it got on his nen'cs to have deiectives cropping up at
every turn, but he ciuln’t appear to me to be particularly
alarmed. I lowever, I didn’t see very much of him, so I may
be V rong.”

“I don’t think you are wrong,” Hannasyde said slouly.
“Do you remember the day he told me that preposterous
story of how iic vent to Monte ( arlo? I have a vivid re-
collection of Iwm saying: I look the hnd of man who' d shoot

Ihinsclft Of cow sc 1 don't!' ”

“Yes, I remember that,” Coles replied. “Hut you never
know with a nian who drinks as much as he did. That
cartridgc-casc is more to die point, and 1 think it argues an un-
accustomed hand, f lad I done this, for instance, I should have
looked carefully for that case alter luring the shot.”

“People don’t always keep their heads imder such circum-
stances. If they did there v ould be more tmsolved mysteries. ’’

“True, but didn’t we decide some time ago that the

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

209

murderer in tliis case must have been a very cool customer?”

"‘Assuming the murderer of Arnold Vereker and the
niurderer of Roger Vereker to have been one and the same
person?” said flannasyde a little ruefully, “j h'lvtn’t much
doubt of that myself, but vhethcr i shall ever prove it is
another matter. Where, by the way, were \ou last night?”

“I thought that was coming,” icmaiktd (ales, ‘'’hrom
seven o’clock, when I called f» »r lier at the studio, until about
a quarter to twelve, when I took her bael: to the studio, I was
with L\iiss Vereker. We dined at Uavoli’s,* and went on
afterwards to Wyndhom’s. Afur 1 left ^tlss Vereker I drove
back to the Temple in a taxi — the same taxi that took us home
from the theatre, 'that ought to be easy to ttace. When 1
reached the '1 cniplc I went to bed. I ’111 afi >Ad my man was
asleep by that time, so 1 can’t ofFtr you ant ptoof that i staged
in bt^d till tins n’orning. flow long did tJie police-sufgcon
think my cousin )vad been dead?”

“\cc(nding to Inspector T/avics, at It \st se\cn or tight
hours, and pc/ssibly mc^re. lie saw the hodv '^r alnnit scv'^cn
f/rty-fuc this morning, J undcistancl.”

“ W cll, i suppose ^ could )ust have done it,” rcileetcd Giles.
“Only I r.ithcr tloubt, from my kijc»w ledge of linn, wlicther 1
should have found Roger still up, and writiro loters, at c»ne
in the morning.”

“You ate not, at the moment, one of xnv suspects,” replied
Hannasyde, with a glimmer of a smile. I Ic turned, as Sergeant
Hcmingw'ay came back into the room, escorting die hall-
porter, and said in his pleasant way; “Cood-niorning. You
are the porter here?”

“If cs, sir,” said the man, loolJng ra,thcr fearfullv round the
room. “Leastways, the mght porter, more properly speak-
mg.

“What is your njme?”

“Fletcher, sir. Henry (Icorge Fletcher.”

2X0

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

The Sergeant interpolated: 'T’tc got the name and the
address. Superintendent.*’

“AU right. What time do you come on duty, Fletcher?”

“At eight p.m., sir, and go off the same a.m.”

“Are you on the premises for the whole of that time?”

Fletcher gave a slight cough. “Well, sir — official — ^like —
if you take my meaning. Sometimci I do stroll out for a
breather. I wouldn’t be gone more than a couple of minutes
or so. Not often, that is.”

“Did you g6 out last night?”

“No, sir.”

“You’re quite sure of that?”

“Yes, sir. It turned that chilly yesterday evening I wouldn’t
want to, me being what you might call susceptible to cold. I
had a bit ot a lire m my room downstairs, which the Sergeant
here has seen.”

“Small room, I thought,” said the Sergeant. “Draughty,
I daresay.”

“It IS that,” agreed the porter.

“Sit with the door shut.'*”

"Tliere isn’t anything against it, not in my orders,” said
Fletcher defcnsivtly. “If I’m wanted I’m rung for, and I’d
hear the lift working, door or no door. I can keep my eye on
tilings with It shut, on account of the upper part being glass,
hke you saw.”

“If you weren’t liaving forty winks, you could,” said the
Sergeant shrewdly.

“I don’t sleep when I’m on duty,” muttered Fletcher.

Hannasyde said: “All right. Sergeant. I shouldn’t imagine
that anyone would blame you if you did doze a bit, Fletcher.
It must be dull work. 1 take it you didn’t hear anything that
might have been a shot last night?”

“No, sir, else I would have up and said at once. But we’re
close to the Exhibition Road, and there was a lot of cars went

DEATH IN THE STOCKS »II

down it last night on accoxint of a big do they had at the
Albeit HalL Chanty ball, I believe it was. One way and
another, there was a hit more noise than usual, though not in
this building, that I’ll swear.”

"I see. Is your main front door open aU night, or do yoix
shut it?”

“Not till midnight, I don’t.”

“But you do shut it then?”

“Yes, sir. Them’s my orders.”

“So tliat anyone entering the building aftetf twelve would
be obhged to ring for you to let tliem in?’-’

“That’s right, sir.”

“Did anyone come in late last night?”

“Oh yes, sir! Mr. and Mrs. Cholinondley of 15, they
did. Then there was Sir George and I adv Fairfav, and the
two young ladies, what was all at this bill I was tclhng y'ou
about; and Mr. Humphries, of No. 6, he w.is out late, too;
and Mrs. Muskett, of No. y; and Miss— ”

“These are all residents, I take it? You didn’t adnut any
visitors after twelve^”

“No, sir. Well, I wouldn’t hardly c\pcet to, not at tliat
hour.”

“And before twelve do you remember whether you saw
any stranger enter the building^”

The porter rubbed his cliin. “Vi^ell, it’s a bit bird to say, if
you understand me,” he confided. “( )f course, if I was to sec
anyone hanging about suspicious-like I should he on to thent
quick enough; but there’s twenty llats here, sir, and people
coming in and out a good bit. If anyone passes my door, I
take a look, naturally, but 1 wouldn’t alwavs like to sweat who
it was, not if they go straight past to the hft t r the stairs. For
instance, there was a couple of ladies went up last night, and
three gentlemen to my certain knowltv’ ,e I fancy the fltst
lady was Miss Matthews, but I only saw her hat, it being all

212 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

on the side of her head, hke they wear them now. She must
have come in about eight-thirty or thereabouts. Ihe other
one come m soon after eleven, but I didn’t get more than a
glimpse of her. I nc\ cr saw her go out again, so I expect it
was Miss lurncr, Airs, Dclaford’s personal maid, come home
a bit late. Then there was a gentleman went up m the lift to
the fourth or fifth floot. He wms a st anger all right, l:xjcause
he came down again about eleven, and had me call him a taxi
Tall, mibtary gentleman, he was. Ihe second gentleman
wanted AdmiAl C raven’s flat, and L took him up. I didn’t see
the other, not properK. He must have come in about half-
past ten by ni) reckoning, but he went up cm his own, not
using the hft. 1 rather thought it was young Mr. Muskett,
because he was w earing one. of those bbek ftlt hats, which Mr
Muskwll docs with his e\cmnv clothes, but now you put nic
m niuitl of it I wouldn't wonder if it wasn’t him at all, on
account of Ivji. Muskett’s flat being on the thud floor, and
him not Lcing one to w^ilk up w>^hen tliere’s i Iifi.”

‘‘Did you sec lum leave the building*'” 1 lann isyde asked.

“'‘^^ell, J can’t rightly sa} as how I did,” confessed tlic
porter.

“And arc )oa sure tint these were the onlv people wflio
might have been strangers w ho came in last night^”

“I wouldn't sa^ ll u,” icplicd IJctrhcr cautiously. “Not
to take my oath on it, that is.”

Tt was cputc evident that the porter had spent some part of
the evening at least nodding comfortably over Ins fire
Nothing would be gamed by forcing Jiim to admit it, so
Hannasj de wisely abandoned the subject. “\Xlio occ upies the
flat beside this one?” he asked.

“Mr, Humphries does, sir. Him as I told you about. He
was at that ball, and came home close on half-past four in the
morning, very happy.”

“And on the other side of the landing?”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS ZI}

‘‘Well, Mr. and Mrs. Tomlinson has No. 3, but they’re
away, and No. 4 is empty.”

“Is there anyone tn the flat above this'^”

“Yes, sir, Mrs. Muskett, what was out late too. Well, when
I say late, half-past twelve it would have been when she come
in. But if you was thinking she might have heard the shot, I
wouldn’t like to say she would. These flats is built sound-
proof.”

“I’ll go up and see her, all the same,” JIannasjde said.
“You needn’t wait; I expect you w%int to i^et hoftic.”

“V/ell, It is past my time,” agreed the portcL. )f course,
if there’s anything I can do ”

“No, nothing, tlianks But if I wore y’^ou I wouldn’t talk
about this.”

“Not me, sir. Mr. Jackson - -he’s the nanager — ^wIIJ be in
a rare taking over it when he gets to hear of it.”

Ilannay sde paused. “Yes, where /r the he asked.

“Away for the night,” answered the berocaut. “I Apected
back this moraing.”

“1 see. If Hollis turns up while I’m gone, tcU him to take
the pistol for fingerprints, and to gt) over the 111 cly places in
this room, and the hall, and the bathroom. T shan’t he long, 1
hope.”

JIc went out cs he spoke and the berge int and Giles
^ ^arringtem were left to entertain one anotlic'r until ho returned.
Sergeant Hollis arrived five minat(.o 1 iter, and CjiIcs, watching
him set to work, said “ \Vcll, tluo is iiit-testing, any'way. Do
you think you could do tne telephone firs*, Sergeant? It
dawns on me tli it ] had liett^T rino: up uiy ofiice and tell them
I’m frying other fisli this moiaing.”

“Wasting your time a bit, aren’t we, sir^” said Hemingway
sympatlicticallyr. “Tt’s routine- work, this. I’d be drilling to
bet a fiver wc don’t get a single print, u nv ss it might on
that cartridge-case.”

114 DEATH IM THE STOCKS

Giles had just concluded a conversation with the elder
Carrington (who said explosively that if Giles meant to spend
all day and every day in his cousins’ pockets the sooner they
were all wiped out the better it would be) when Hannasyde
came back into the room. He paused for a mt'ment, watching
Hollis, and th.en glanced towards Giles. “Sorry to keep you
hanging about Lkc this. I’m goinp to ( hclsca now. 1 here’s
no re?sc;n for 3 ou to come it you don’t w ant to, you know.”

“l*m ceming, if only to see fair play,” said (iilcs. "Any
luck with tl ^'uskttts?”

"Rather dubious. One thing I have ascertained: the man
the porter saw w'as n(>t 30ung Muxkctt. He came in at six-
thirty last night and didn’t go out again. Somewhere round
about eleven lie heard a ni'ise which he thought was a car
hac k 1.1 ing. T he tiouble is it may w ell hav e been.” He turned
to Heniingwj). “I’m leaving jou here. Sergeant; 50U know
what to do. i’ll see you at the Yard. If you’re ready, Mr.
Carrington, let’s go.”

CHAPTER XIX

The journey to Chelsea was accomplished in Giles Carring-
ton’s cat. The Superintendent cast a quick look at his face as
he settled down beside him, and said: ‘ ‘I’m afraid this is rather
a nasty case for you, Mr. Carrington.”

“It’s a very nasty case indeed,” said Giles* cal nly. “Not
particularly for me.” He changed into second gear, and then
into top. “I see whither your thoughts are tendi ig, of course;
but you’ll hardly expect me to believe that a cousiii —or, to
strictly accurate, a connection of mine — would be capable of
committing so cold- blooded a murder.”

The Superhitcndcnt was silent. After a moment Giles
added, with a faint smile: “Moreover, 1 hardly t'link he
would have overlooked the cartridgc-case.”

‘'You think Fm prejudiced against young Vereker/' said
Hannasyde. “But I can honestly say that I liope very much
you may be right. But it’s no use blinking facts: Roger
Vereker’s death — assuming it to have been murder — narrows
the field down considerably. I don’t think tlicrc’s much doubt
that the man who killed Arnold also killed Roger. You
yourself said that although there might have been sevreral
motives for the first murder there can only have bccii one for
tlie second. 7’hat seems to dispose of Mesurier f<^r t)ne, and of
Arnold’s chauffeur — never a very probable suspect, 1 ad-nit —
for another. Neither stood to gain anything through Roger’s
death. There is just one person who stands to gun a fortune:
you know it as well as I do, so wc may as well be frank about
it. What is more, Mr. Carrington, you have never loeen sure
that Kenneth Vereker didn’t commit tiiat first murder. You
believed him to be capable of it: I’ve known that from the

2x5

2i6 death in the stocks

start, sticks in your gullet is this second murdct. But if

you think it over you must see that it follows perfectly
logically, almost inevitably, on the first. Admitted, it wasn’t
foreseen. It takes a pretty hardened criminal to plan to kill
two people. One murder only was planned, but when Roger
Vereker turned up that murder was useless unless he also
could be got rid of. You know the French saying that it’s
only the lirst step that counts: well, you can apply it here. If a
man can murder one half brother for his money', and get away
with it, he won’t find it so hard to murder a second half-
brother. And I don’t in the least mind admitting that
Arnold’s murderer looked like getting away with it com-
pletely — which Kenneth Vereker was well aware of.”

“It would have to be an abnormal nand>” Gilts satdharshly.

“Yes, ceitainly.”

“Rubbish' 'J hat boy’s not abnormal at all. Nor, had he
planned to kill Roger, w ould he hav e been fool enough to
show his amnuisity >>opl..in!y.”

“Wouldn’t he>” liaiinaside’s voice was very dry, “I
think that is just what Keuntth Vciekcr w'ould do. But don’t
run away with the uitj duit I’ve ruled out every other possible
suspeet. T haven’t- but I should be a fool if i didn’t go mto
his rnovcincnfs last night very carefully.”

'1 hey had come to a eiossmg, and the traihc lights weic
against them. Not until the car had mo\ t d foi ward again did
Giles ( arriiirton answer. Then he said, witli a smile. “\cs,
you’d be a fool— but 1 told you 1 was going to take a liand,
didn’t!?”

‘AVell, if any dung lias occurred to vou, let me liavc it,”
said Haniusydc placably.

“Iwo pcissibihties have occurred to me, but both are so
wildly improbable that I dunk I won’t bother you with them,”
replied tides. “One is obvious enough for you to have
thought of for yourself ”

DEATH IK THE STOCKS

217

Hannasydc gave a chtickle. ‘‘Thank you!”

“Sorr}% I didn’t mean it quite like that. The other” — he
paused — “tlie other, as far as f know, has absolutely notliing
to support it. Til see if 1 can find something.”

‘‘It doesn’t semnd very promising.” said Hannasyde, rather
amused. “But by all means go ahead with it.”

In another few minutes they had arrived at the studio,
Giles ran his car a little Avay down tlie mews, and followed
1 lannasyde up the stairs to the door of the flat. ^

It was opened to them by ^furgatroyd, who exclaimed:
“Yv'hat, again?” in tones of deep disgust. “Vv ch, one tiling’s
certain --you can’t go worrying iny ytmng lady and gentle-
man now. dlicy’re lla^ing breakfast. Good-morning, Mr.
Giles.”

“Having bnnkfist, '^1'urgatroyd^” Cdles said. “Do you
know it’s tiearl) eleven?”

“Ye*% and it was ncailv hye before ICenn^ th and Miss
I cslic came back from that dance,” said Murgatroyd grimly.

“Vrdl, I’m sorry, but Superintendent I lannasyde is a busy
man. Air. Kenneth will have to be disturbed.”

“If jou say so, sir,” conceded Miirgatrovd, disapprovingly,
and st(H) 4 ^^back. ‘’Not but what f doubt whether Miss I.eslic’s
dressed to rcceiyc roiiipauy, but I’ll sec.”

“Aiiss Ix‘slie? Js she here^”

“C'^h yes, she’s here, and has been all night — what there was
left of it by the time Mr. Kenneth brought her back,” replied
Murgatroyd. “^‘Xhat must she do but leave her latch-
key behind, so sooner than knock up her landlady she wakes
Atiss Tony, and gets into her bed.” She opened the door into
the studio as she spoke, and looked in. “Here’s Mr, Giles
with the Superintendent, Miss Tony. Will I let them in, or
not?”

“( Jh, my God, at this hour!” groaned Kenneth, “Say we’re
out.”

218

DEATH IM THE STOCKS

“No, don’t. Of course they can come in,” said Antonia.
“You don’t mind, do you, I^eslic? Hullo, Giles! Good-
morning, Superintendent. Have some coffee!”

1 he breakfast-table had been laid in the window. Antonia,
fully dressed, was seated at one end, beliind the coffee-j>ot,
with I eslie Kivers, in a kimono, on one side of her, and
Kenneth, in pajamas, a pair of flannel trousers, and an old
blaze r, on tlie other. Kenneth, who looked half asleep,
blinked somewhat morosely at the visitors, and said* “Well,
what’s happened now? Don’t spare us. For Ciod’s sake cover
up those repulsne eggs, Tony! Murgattoyd must be mad.
Where’s the ham?”

“We f nishcd it yesterday. Do sit down. Superintendent!
1 his is Miss Kivtrs, by the w ay. You’re looking rather grim,
Giles. Is anytliing the matter?”

“I’m afraid something very serious, Tony. Roger is dead —
shot.”

Iheie was a moment’s frozen silence. Than Antonia
gasped out: “Gosh!”

Kennctli, who had stayed his enffee-rup half-way to his
mouth, blinked again and drank witli a good deal of
deliberation. I hen he set the cup dowm in th^ saucfr,
wipfd lus lips with his napkin, and said coolly: “If true,
slightly redundant. Is it true, by any chantc’'”

“Pcifcctly true, Mr. Veteker,” said Ilannasyde, watching
him.

It struck Giles, also watching, that Kenneth’s control over
his features was almost too perfect. 1 here was a suggestion of
rigidity about liis mouth, a curiously* bLink look in his eyes.
They travelled from Giles’s face to Ilannasyde’s. 'Ihen
Kenneth picked up his cup and saucer, and handed it to
Antonia, “iviore coffee, please,’’ he said. “How my fortunes
do fluctuate'”

“You don’t seem to be greatly surprised, Mr. Veteker.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

219

“I should hate you to know how very greatly surprised I
am, my friend-the-Supetiatendent. You did say shot, didn’t
you? What does that mean? Suiade?”

“That or murder,” said Hannasyde. 1 he word, uttered so
baldly, had an ugly sound, and made T-eslie Rivers shiver
involuntarily.

“Let’s stick to suicide,” suggested Kenneth. “It’s mote
hkely.”

“Do you think so? Why?”

“Obvious inference. lie killed Arnold, ibouglit you were
on to him, lost his nerve, and pulkd ihc trigger. Violet said
he had the wind up.”

“Did she^” It was Giles who spoke. “What made het think
that?”

“1 didn’t ask.”

Leslie said in rather a strained voice: “He must have liad
the wind up. I tliought so mj self.”

“Well, I never saw an) signs of it,” said Antonia llatly.

I esliclookcdsteadilv athcr. “( )h \ es. Ton) ! iJeoftenhad
a sort of scared expression in his e)es.”

“That was only because he thought )ou’d like to murder

liim,” replied Antonia irrepressibly. “He said )ou ” She

broke off, flushing scarlet. “Oh, lord, what on earth am 1
saying? It was only a joke, of course' lie didn’t really thmk
so!”

“Ko, I should hardly suppose he did,” said I.eslic quietly.
“I can’t say I hked him much, but I hadn’t an) desire to
murder him. However, perhaps it’s just as well that I’ve got
an alibi.” She turned to Hannasyde and smiled. “Iv’aswith
Mr. Kenneth Vereker last night, from a quarlcr to eight
onwards. We had dinner together at the Carlton, and went on
from there to the Albert Hall, where we danced till after four
o’clock. Then wc came back here.”

"Were you together the entire evening. Miss Rivers?”

8

220

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

“Yes, of course,” she ansurered.

Kenneth’s eves went swiftly to her face with a look in
them hard to read.

“Did you go to the ball alone, or in a party?” asked
Hannasyde.

It seemed to Giles that she hesitated for a moment. “We
joined a party,” she said.

“A large party, \Iiss Rivers?”

“No, not verj..”

“How many were in it'''”

“About a dozen, all told ” said Kenneth. “Wc shared a
box.”

“And you naturally danced with other members of the
party besides Misb Rivers'''”

“Naturallj,” concurred Kenneth.

“But we alvajs met in the box again after each dance,”
I cslie struck in. “ * don’t think wc lost sight of each other for
more than tA c minutes at a time the whole nigjjt, did we,
KennetlP”

“No,” said Kenneth slowly. “Probably not.”

(jilcs thought, with a sinking heart 'I hat’s a lie \nd
Keimeth isn't doing it w cll.

ou didn’t le.ive the Mlivtl Kail during the course of the
dance, Air. Verekerr”

“No.”

Thcic was a pause. Hannasyde put his hand in his pocket,
and drew out the meerschaum pipe. “Have \ou ever seen
that before^” he asked

Kenneth looked at it, then held out his hand. Hannasyde
put the pipe into it. Kenneth msperted it more closely and
gave it back. “Many times. Ft belongs to me.”

“I found It upon the mantelpiece in your half brother’s flat,
Mr. Vereker.”

“Did you^” said Kenneth. “I must have left it there.”

DPAIIIINTHR STOCKS 2Z1

‘‘When?”

“Two or tliree nights ago. 1 was dining there.”

“^’ou haven't missed it?”

'‘Ko/’ said Kenneth indifferentlv. “I don't alwaj'S smoke
the srme pipe.”

“a\ meetsrhaum is usually' a somewhat cherished
possession,” IJannasjdc said. “1 toi> am a pipe smoker, you
Juiow.”

“Yon iha) be, lut you Ye not a Vcicher,” returned
Kcnnctli, the ghost of his impish lot^L in his e^ c?, I Ic pushed
lus plate aside, and set lus elbows on the table. “And now
may J ask a f< w questions?”

“In a moment, \'r. Vcickcr 1 want \f)u nrst to tell mo the
nan.es of the otlier members in tour port\ list night.”

“'i (>ii ^ic going to have a liUs\ do,” rcjuarked Kenneth.

eslie, wlio was in our paii\

“\> cl], the i Ictnshaws, tor < »ae,” beaan I eslie thoughtful!}

J wo, (Jailing, AY. and Mrs. C^eiald Hernsluw, Haltitigs,
( ranleieb, Siq^erinienddit, That’ll be a nice little jaunt for
T ou

“ ^'nd Tomnn Dr^w,” continued f eshe.

“Honourable hhomas Drew, Albany That’s an ensv one
tor \ ou, bat he wasn't noticeably sober after c leeen. so he may
not be so usciuk”

“And some people called We.^tkv. 1 don’t know where
thev live.”

“\X cre tuosc the blights that cime with Arthui and Paula?”
jnquiicd Kcnnctli, interesied. “J danced with the female one.
1 hcv In e somew^herc on Putney HiU, and breed Pomeramans.”

“A ou made that bit up,” said Xntonia accusingly.

“1 did not. d he She V^VstJey said she got three firsts at
Richmond wath Iier bitch Pansy of Poltmore.”

“ ITicn P<dttnoie is probably the nai ic of her house,” said
Antonia. “I call Pansy a perfectly rotten name for a dog ”

222

death in the stocks

At tliis point Giles intervened. “This would be done more
expeditiously if Miss Rivers told Superintendent Hannasyde
what he wants to know, and you two kept quiet,” he said.

“Wtll, don’t forget the copper-headed wench,” said
Kenneth, getting up and strolling over to the fireplace. “She
came with Tommy, and appeared to regret it.” He selected a
pipe from the rack on the mantelpjcce and began to fill it from
an earthenware jar of tobacco. By the time it was alight Leshe
had come to the end of her list, and the Superintendent was
jotting down the last name in his notebook. Kenneth puffed
for a moment, and then said: “And now, if yi'uVc no
objection, when did m/ half brother shoot himself^”

“Your half-brother, Mr. Vcrckcr, was shot sometime last
iin^ht— probably before midmght, but on that point I have as
)ct no ccitain information.”

“And the weapon?”

“The weapon was a C olt 32 automatic pistol.”

Kenneth’s brows lifted. “It was, was it? XUherc’s your
gun, '1 ony?”

She looked startled, saw the hint of a ftown in Giles
( arringfon’s e-yes, and said jerkily “'Miat are \ou drning
at? 1 didn’t shoot Roger!”

“Kobod y said you did, my cluld. AX' hci e is it?”

“In the top left band drawer of mv bureau.”

He mo\ ed towards tht bureau. “I’m willing to bet it isn’t.”

“Well, this time you’d lose,” retorted Antoma. “I happen
to know n’s there, because I had it out and oiled it that day
we spring-cleaned this room.”

Kenneth opened the drawer, and turned over the papers in
It. “I win,” he said. “Tliink again.”

“But I know I put It there!” said Antoma, growing rather
pale. “Under the used cheques. Leslie, you were here: don’t
you remember?”

‘T tonember you oihng it, but I don’t think I saw you put it

DEATH IN THE STOCKS Z25

awav,” said l«slie, “Tty the tight-hand dtawet, Kenneth.”
“Not thete eithet,” said Kenneth.

“I am uttetly positive I put it in the left-hand dtamt'”
stated Antonia. She got up, and went to the butcau, and
tutned the contents of the drawet upside do\ra Then she said
m rathet a ftightened voice* “No, it isn’t there Someone’s
taken it.”

“You’re quite sure tou didn’t moAC it later, and forget
about It?” Giles asked

“Yes. It al-ways hves in my bureau I’ll look, <but I know I
nevet moved it ”

“1 shouldn’t bother,” said Kenneth
Hannas) de said quicth “Did an) one othtr tlrui your
brothel and Miss Riveis know wheic )ou kept your pistol.
Miss Vereker?”

“Gh )cs, lots of people’”

“t an ^ ou be a little more precise^” ne asked
“An) one who knew the flat well ’) ou did, for instance,
didn’t )ou, Ciiles?”

es, 1 knew you kept it m voui bureau. Ton) J think it
was mv suggestion but didn’t T also suggest a lock and kci >”
“I daresay you did, but T lost the key ages ago, and anyway
1 never remembered to keep it locked up ”

“Do you think your half brother knew. Miss Vereker^”
She leflected “Roger^ I should think ht must have found
out, because he told me himself he’d been through my bureau
to s( e if 1 kept anv montv there Kenntth, is that w hat you’re
driymg at^ Do you think Roger took it’”

“Yes, of course T do,” leplicd Kenneth “My friend-the
Superintendent, on the other hand, thmks I took it ”
Hannasyde paid no heed to tlus, but merely asked Antoma
if she knew the number of the pistol.

“On your hcence, Tony,” prompted Criles “Can vou lay
your hand on that’”

ZZ4 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

“It’s sure to be somewhere in my desk,” she said hopefully.

Exhaustive search, in which she was aided by Kenneth,
Giles, and Leslie Rivers, at last brought the Arms Licence to
light. She gave it triumphantly to Hannasyde, apologizing at
the same time for its somewhat dilapidated appearance. She
said that dogs got hold of it once when Juno was a puppy.

Hannasyde noted down the number of the pistol, gave her
back the licence, and prepared to depart. Kenneth stopped
him. “I low serious are you in thinking that this may not have
been suicide, *friend Osric?” he demanded.

“You have reminded me yourself that I am not a Vereker,”
replied Hannasyde. “1 don’t joke on such matters.”

“Some reason up \our tlceve for thinkuigtt murder?”

“Yes,” said Hannasyde. “Several reasons. Is there any-
tliing else >ou would like to know?”

“('cttainly there is,” .answered Kenneth, a tiiile un
expectedly. “1 want very much to Icnow who, after me, is the
next heir.”

His words produced a surprised silence. Hannasyde broke
It. “I'hat is hardly my province,” he said.

“I hate to contradict you,” said Kenneth, “but it is very'
much vouf province. If thi^ was murder, I look like being
the next victim. And, frankly, 1 don’t fancy myself m tlie
part. I want police protect ion, please.”

CHAPITR XX

Tiir Superintendent looked at him for a moment, under
slightly frowning brows. It was Antoma who spoke. “But
aren’t I the next heir?” she asked. “Giles, aren’t 1?”

“I’m not sure, Tony. Your father didn’t visualiz'c the
deaths of all three sons when he made his ill. Vou <nav be.’’

“W liat of it?’’ said Kenneth blandly.

Antonia said, with feeling: “You beast, Kenneth'”

“If jou arc serious m wanting police protection no doubt
you will get It, upon apphcation to the proper quarter,” said
Hannasyde. “Meanwhile, I should hke to see your maid —
Vlurgatroy d— please.”

“Thar cuight to be good value,” observed Kenneth, and
lounged over to the door, and called to Munjatroyd.

She came at once, and, upon being told that the Super-
intendent wanted to speak to her, confronted him with un-
disguised hostility in her ejes. “W'elP” she said. “Ko need
to tell me something’s happened: I can sec tliat.”

“You’d never guess what, though,” said Kenneth.
“Roger’s dead.”

She looked quickly from one to the other of them. “Dead?”
she repeated. “You’re not making game of me, arc you,
Master Kenneth?”

“ \sk my friend-thc-Superintendent,” he shrugged.

She drew in her breath in a hissing sound through her
teeth. “Well, that’s a surprise, I will say. Dead! And drunk
at the time. I’ll be bound. And no loss, either— though I’m
sure I didn’t wish him as much harm as that.” She glanced at
Hannasyde. “Vt'hat is it you want to .sk me? I don’t know
how it happened, if that’s what you’re aftu:.”

225

2z6 death in the stocks

“Where were you last night?” he asked.

“What’s that got to do with you?” she retorted. “You’re
not going to tty and make out Mr. Roger was murdered, are
you?”

“I am afraid I have a good deal of reason for thinking that
he was,” replied Hannasyde. “He was found in his flat, early
this morning, shot through the head.”

Murgatroyd’s rosy cliecks turnti quite pale. She took a
step backwards, was stopped by a chair, and sat down in it
with a plump# “Oh, my goodness gracious me!” she gasped.
“Whatever next? ( )f all the luinatural— I never did in all my
born days!”

“And needless to say,” put in Kenneth, “the police think I
did it.”

This brought her up out of the chair with a bounce, “t^h,
they do, do thej ? VC’cll, let me tell you,” she said, rounding
upon Hannasyde, “diat Mr. Kenneth was at a dance all last
night, as Miss Rivers here can swear to!”

“'Ihat wasn’t what T asked you,” said Hannasj^e quietly.
“I want you to tell me where you were.”

“At the Pictures,” she replied.

“Alone?”

“Yes, I was.”

“/\nd afterwards?”

“Straight back here, where I was when Miss Tony cainc-
in.”

“What time did you get back?”

“Twenty minutes past eleven. You can ask Mr. Peters, if
you like — ^you’ll rind him fartlicr down the mews. He owns
the lock-up garages, and be saw me come in, and asked me
what the picture was like. Which I told him.”

There was nothing more to be got out of her. Hannasyde
let her go, and in a few minutes had left the flat himself.

For some moments after the front door had shut behind the

DEATH IN THE STOCKS MTJ

Supednteadeot no one spoke. It was Morgattoyd, coming
back into the room, who broke the silence. “I’ve got my
vegetables to do,” she said prosaically, “let alone all this
washing up, so it stands to reason I can’t waste tune talkmg.
You’d better come and give me a hand, AIiss Tony. You
won’t do any good sitting there looking scared. It’s a nasty
set-out, and no mistake, but brooding won’t mend matters.”

Antonia looked at Giles. “Giles, it’s all getting so beastly,”
she said. “I didn’t mind about .Vrnold, but I hate this!
Kenneth — you were at the Albert Hall the aihoL mght,
wercii’t you^*”

“God bless the girl, now r/ie thinks I did it!”

Giles said, watching Kenneth: ou lied badly. You wete
in Roger’s Hat last night, weren’t j ou?”

“lie wasn’t! 1 tcU you he never left the Hall!” Leslie struck
in fiercely.

Giles paid no heed to her, but kept lus eyes on Kenneth’s
face. Kenneth met that look challengingly. hy should I
have been in Roger’s flat? ( an vou tlmik of any reason^”

“Yes,” said Giles. “I c.m.”

Kenneth’s lip curled. “I sec. Murder. A ou’rc w^rong.”

“Not murder. Jealousy.”

A flush crept into Kenneth’s lean cheeks. “Again you’re
wrong.”

“Very well, what was the reason?”

“You’ve already heard me say that I didn’t leave the Albert
Hall until past four.”

“Is that statement likely to be corroborated by the otl.et
members of your party? Miss Rivers gave that ahbi, not you.
I was watching you; you weren’t expecting it. T think you
neatly denied it.”

“'*^y don’t you join the police-force^” inquired Kenneth.
“You’ve missed your vocation.”

Giles got up. “You young fool, can’t you see what a tight

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

228

comer you’re in?” he said. ‘Xie to Hannasyde if you must,
but if you lie to me you can look for another lawyer. I won’t
touch your case.”

“As you wish,” Kenneth said.

“Don’t throw him over, Giles'.” Antonia begged, a catch
in her voice. “Please, please don’t desert us!”

His face softened; he said more gently: “I shan’t do that,
Tony. But I can’t handle a case wi'ere I’m kept in the dark.”

“All very moving,” remarked Kenneth. “So far I haven’t
asked you to»handlc my case. Supposing someone in my party
did lose sight of me for half an hour? Have you ever danced
at the Albert Hall? It’s a largish sort of a place, you know.”

“Yes, and we sat out a good bit,” Leslie said.

Antonia looked anxiousl) at Giles. “You think he’s in a
mess, Gilcs>”

“I know he’s in a mess.”

“Any fool could sec that,” said Kenneth contemptuously.
“First T kill Arnold, then Roger turns up, sev naturally T kiil
him as well. All for fllh} lucre too. Take that worried IooIk
off your face, Tony; there’s no evidence.”

“There’s )our pipe ” she pointed out.

“Tliey won’t hang me on that,” he answered.

Ihty could get no more out of him than that. He walked
up and down the studio, his hands in his pockets and his pipe
clenched between his teeth. “It’s possible they may arrest
me,” he said, frowning.

Giles, who had moved to the desk, and was kicking over
the pages of the telephone directory, glanced up. “More than
thal.”^

“Very well, more than that. You ought to know. But it
isn’t enough if they prove I left the Albert Hall during the
dance. They must pro\x I went to see Roger, and that they
can’t do.”

Giles, having apparently found what he was looking for.

DEATH IN THE STOCKS ZZJ

shut the directory, and laid it down. ‘‘Think it over/^ he
advised. ‘^\nd don’t overlook the fact that no one has so
strong a motive as you for murdering Arnold and then Roger.
Tm going now, but if you come to your senses, ring me up!”

“What, with a full confession?” jibed Kenneth.

Giles did not answer. Antoma went out w’ith him, and at
the front door detained him a few moments. “Giles, it’s
getting worse. I’m dead sure he was with Roger last night,
can always tell when Ivcnnctlfs htnir. He does it so
badly. hat will happen if they litul it fmt?”

“'I ony, my dear, 1 don’t know, because I\e no idea when
lie went thete, or what ht did there. But dungs arc going to
look remarkably ugly if he’s caught out in a lie. Everything
points to him already.”

“Yes, I can see that, but 1 don’t believe he did it all the
same,” she replied. “I wish I cslic hadn’t nipped in wirii th?t
alibi before he had time to speak. I think she’s queered his
pitch.” She paused, and then said in a troubled way: “There’s
one rather horrid thing. Cities. I don’t know whether you\e
thought of it. If Kenneth didn’t do it — who could have^
Nobody else had any reason to kill Roger.”

“Yes, \ have thought of U,” he said curtly.

“1 expect a jury would too?’’ slu sugge'^ted, raising her eyes
to his face.

“Undoubtedly.” He took her hands, and held them
comfortmgK . “Don’t worry, chicken. 1 don’t beliexe
Kenneth did it any more than you do.” He smiled down at
her. “Here’s one cheering thouglit for you at least: Mesurier
looks like being cleared of all suspicion.”

“Oh, him!” said Antonia. “I’d forgotten about him.
He’s fed up with me, by the way. Kot that 1 blame him. I
don’t think T’ll get engaged any more It docsti't seem to lead
anj'wherc.”

“It will next time,” said Giles. “That I promise you.” He

2}0 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

gave he£ hands a quick squeeze, released them, and ran down
the stairs to his car.

Five minutes later he drew up outside a house in a street
leading up from the Fmbankment. It had been converted into
two maisonettes, the one on the groimd and first floor having
Violet Williams’s name on a brass plate beside the door.

He rang the bell, and was presently admitted by a middle-
aged woman in a dirty overall. Her method of announcing
him was to caU out: “Oh, Miss Williams, here’s somebody to
sec you!”

Violet came out of a room it the front of the house. She
gave an exclamation of surprise at seeing Giles. “Vv'hy, Mr.
(iartington! I’d no ideal Do come in!”

He followed her info a sitting room furnished in bleached
oak with jade- green curtains and cushions. \ table in the bay
window had a litter of sketches on it, and the chair, pushed
back from it, seemed to mdicatc that Violet had been working
there, (dies said: “I hope I’m not disturbing )ou. ^oulook
as though }ou were busy.”

“Of course not. Won’t you sit down? 1 apologise for the
creature who Icl you in, b\ the way! I don’t keep a proper
maid. She’s just a char who conus to clean in the mornings.”
She picked up a cigarette box from a low table by the fire-
place, and offered it to him. “Don’t think me terribry rude,”
she said, smiling, “but what on earth do you want to see me
about?”

He struck a match, and held it to the cigarette she had taken
from the box. “I’m hoping you will be able to induce Kenneth
to behave scmibl) ,” he answered.

She laughed. “Oh, I’m afraid he’s impossible! \lfhat has
he Itcen up to?”

“T wish I knew. Miss Williams. You sec, something rather
shocking lias happened. Roger Vereker has been found shot
in his flat.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS

She gave a Start. “Mr. Carrington] Ohnol”

“I’m afraid it is quite true,” he said gravely.

She put a hand over her eyes. “How Poor, poor

Roger! I never dreamed he was feeling it all as badly as that,
1 knew he was on edge, of course, but that he would actually
—oh. It doesn’t bear thinking about!”

“Was he in a very nervous state?” Giles asked. “I believe
jou saw more of him than any^one — you would probably
know.”

“Yes, he was,” she answered. “lie had it fi'ftd in Ins mind
that the police were hounding him down. I was saving so to
Kenneth only the otlier day. He didn’t see it — or wouldn’t sec
It, but then Kenneth isn’t alwa) s very observant.” She let her
liand fall. “But that he should actually have taken his own
hfc! I can’t get over it!”

“I don’t tlunk he did take his own life, AIiss ’'K illiains.”

She turned very pale. “You mean — oh, impossible'”

“It was meant to look hke suicide,” Giles said, “but there
arc one <jr two circumstances which point rather con-
clusively to murder.”

She shuddered. “I can’t believe that. Please tell me wlut
reason you have for saying such a thing!”

“My chief reason is purely technical,” he rephed.

“But the police — do they think it was murder?”

“They think it very probably,” said Giles.

She was silent for a moment, still very white, her eyes fixed
on the glowing end of her cigarette. She raised them pre-
sently, and said: “You mentioned something about Kenneth.
But whatever happened no one can suspect liim of having had
an 3 'thing to do with it. He was at the Albert Hall last lught
with LesUe Rivets.”

"He was at the Albert Hall, I know,” agreed Giles. “But
the Albert HaU is not five minutes’ walk from Roger’s flat.
Miss Williams. Nor are the police at all satisfied that he didn’t

Z^Z DEATH IN THE STOCKS

leave the dance for a time during the course of the evening.
In fact, though he won’t admit it, I am pretty sure that not
only did he leave the dance, but he also called on Roger.”

“I’m sure he didn’tl” she said quickly. “Why should he?
There could be no reason for doing such a stupid thing!”

He hesitated. “I tltink there was a reason,” he answered.
“Ma) T speak quite frankly?”

“Oh, please do!”

“Well, jMiss Williams, Kenneth has — as you probably
know — a ver^ jealous temperament. Do you remember that
on the evening when we all dined with Roger he imdted yoti
to dine with him again on the night of the ball?”

She said rather coldlj; “'^cs, certainly T rementber tha*,
but it was merely a joke.”

“It is just possible that Kenneth took it seriously,” Oilc'’
said.

“Really, 1 think that is a little too ridiculous!” she said, haF-
laughing. “V^hv do eou assume that he was at Rodger’s flat
last night? Docs he admit it?”

“No. But wo found his pipe, with the ash in it, on tbo
inanti Ipieco in Roger’s sitting room,” he replied.

“His pipe— -- ?” she stared at him. “How do you know it
was his?”

“Both llonnasydc and 1 rccogniztd it.”

“Recognized a pipe!” she exclaimed. “How could you?”

He smiled. “To a pipe-smoker all pipes don’t look the
same. Miss Williams. But that’s beside the point. Kenneth
admitted it was his as soon as he saw it.”

She looked at him with an expression of incredulous horrot
in her eyes. “But it’s impossible! I don’t believe it! What
tim.e was Kenneth in the flat? \XTiat was he doing tliere?”

“That is precisely what I, as his legal adviser, want to find
out,” said Giles. “According to Miss Rivers he was never out
of her sight the entire evening. Kenneth corroborated that

DEATH IN THE STOCKS *35

Statement, but only after a moment’s perceptible hesitation,
Isliss Williams. To put it baldly, he was quite obviously lying.
His tale — or rather Miss Rivers’s tale — is that the whole party
met after each dance, in the box they were sharing. Super-
intendent Ilannasydc has only to question the other membeis
of the party to find out whetlier that is true or not. If — as I
am very much afraid — ^it is not true, Kenneth will be in an
extremely dangerous position. i\nd since he has this bee in
his bonnet, that he’s capable of handling his own case without
assistance, I can’t do aJiything to help hun.”

“But why do you come to me?” she interrupted. “Wliat
lias it got to do with me? What can I do about it?”

”1 hope very much that you will ttcert your iniluence to
make him see sense,” replied C.iles. “lie doesn’t realize how
serious the situation is, nor how essential it is that f at least
siiould know the truth about his movements last night.”.

She struck her hands together, as though exasperated.
“I le’s a fool!” she said. “\Vhy on earth should he elect to call
('n Roger last night? What took him tlierc? It’s utterly mad!”

“There is one all too olivious reason. Miss Vv'iihams,” said
Ciiles.

She looked at him uncomprebendingly for a moment. “1

can't imagine ” She stopped; her evelids llirkcred. “t see

what vou mean,” she said, “^'ou will hardlv be surprised at
my not considering that. Nothing would induce me to
believe that he Iiad anv hand m Roger’s death! Tr'ou can't
tWnk ”

“No, 1 don’t tJiink it,” he said. “I am trying to discover
what other reason he can have had for that visit. What I
suspect is jealousy.”

“I don’t understand you.”

Giles said deliberately; “He heard Roger invite you to
dine with him. Miss Williams. It was evident that he didn't
like the idea. He is, as I said, an extremely jealous young man.

2^4 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

and we know that he tesented ftom the outset any fxiendlmess
on your part towards Roger. Last mght — at the eleventh
hour — ^you cned off that dance, didn’t you^”

“J never dchnitely said I’d go with him,” she answered. “I
always disapproved of it, and hoped he’d give it up.”

‘‘Quite But you did allow lum to think that you might go
with him afttr all, didn’t vou^”

“Oh, to a\ert a scent > Bi<t I didn’t piomise ”

‘ At any i?tc, your kit mmute refusal made him very
angry,” said 0.1ts “Now, I know what Kenneth is like when
he’s roused. I think that he lashed himself into suspecting
that jou had tried off the dance so that you could spend the
evening with Roger Tliat may have been why he called
on Roger— just to a sure lumself that you were not at the
flat ’

“I ntvtr heard of anything so insulting'” she said, stiften-
ing. “J m Rotor’s flat at tlul hour'* Tt nuy interest him to
know that so fir from being with Rogtr 1 was at home the
entire evening' And if 1 e doesn't behtve me, ywm may tell
him to apply to Miss bunimf rtown, who came to dinner with
me and staved till eleven, whir 1 went to bed'”

“1 don’t suppose that in his eooltr moments Kenneth
would dream ol suspecting vou,” s.ud (>iles in bis ealm waj
“Vnd if he went to Roget’s flat he must know that you
weren’t there, mustn’t he?”

“Pcrlups he suspects 1 lud lH,hind a screen,” she said icily.
“1 think It IS just as well that I can produce a witness to prove
that T was m mv own home tlie whole evenmg'”

ell, please don’t condemn him on the strength of what
may prove to be my idle miagination,’’ he said, smihng. “11c
may hive had another reason for going to see Roger.”

She was silent, her lovely mouth compressed mto a thin red
line She sat very straight m her chair, one hand clenched on
the arm. There was an air of implacability about her, and the

DBATH IN THE STOCKS Z}5

uncomcious hardening of her face made her beauty seem a
brittle thing, sutfiice-deep.

She turned her head presently, and looked directly at Giles.
“You’re thinking that I’m stupidly annoyeds*” she said.
“Well, I am rather annoyed, but that doesn’t matter. ] mean,
It’s so much mote important to get Kenneth out of this
dreadful mess. Personally, I have an absolute conviction that
it was suicide. I don’t know what your reasons are for think-
ing it wasn’t, but I keep remembering things Roger said. I
didn’t set any store by them at the time — at least not enough
to foresee this— but now that 1 look back 1 can’t help feeling
that £ ought to liave guessed. OnK I don’t know what I
could have done, quite, if I lud. 1 did speak to Kenneth
about It, but he paid no heed.”

“It wasn’t suicide. Miss Williams.”

She frowned. “T don't sec how tou can say that so
positivcl) . 'VC'h 3 wasn’t it?”

“I don’t think you'd bt much tin* wistr if I evpLimcd,” he
answered. “It is a question of where the empty cartridge
case should have been found. Motcover, 1 can’t fur the life of
me see what could have induced Roger to shoot himself when
he must have known that there was no evidence against him.
He was no fool.”

“Tcchmcalities about pistols are beyond me, I’m afraid.
Where ought the empty case to have been found?”

“In quite a different place,” he replied. “There were cither
points too — ^minor ones, but significant.”

“I see. But they can’t prove Kenneth did it. He might
have left his pipe there any time, and if Leslie sticks to her
story ”

“If Arnold Vercket had not been murdered things might
not look so black,” he said. “But \rnold Vttckei was
murdered, and Kenneth had no alibi that he could prove.
Everything he said was calculated to make the poLce look

456 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

askance at him. He said he came here to see you. But he
didn’t see you. According to him you were out. He then said
he went to a cinema. But he didn’t know which one, and he
slept through the greater part of the programme.”

“flh, I knew, I know!” she said. “He was utterly im-
possible.”

“Well,” (jiles said, getting up, “he’s being just as im-
possible now, Miss Williams. Tt mused him to sec how far
he could fool Hannasyde over the iirst murder, and he was so
successful thawt has g<me to his head. But he’s in a far more
precarious position now.”

She, too, rose. cs, I quite see. 1 ’ll go round to the studio
at once, and t.i]k to him. ( )f course, he must take vou into his
confidence. I shall tell him so, and 1 e:;pcct he’ll call on j ou at
your ofilcc.”

“'Iliank >ou,” said Giles. “J hope he will.”

CHAPTER XXI

From Violet’s maisonette Giles drove to Adam Street, where
he found his father upon the point of going out to lunch.
Mr. Charles Carrington looked him over, grunted at him, and
said that he had better come to lunch too. “Heaven knows I
don’t want to hear anything about this disgusfcng affnir,” he
said irascibly, “but of course I shall have to. What’s more,
your mother’s anxious. Says Kenneth isn’t capable of
murder. Bunkum! Did he do it?”

“Good God, I hope not!”

"Oh! Feel like that about it, do you? Quite agree with
you. Don’t like scandals. What was that red-headed little
minx, Tony, up to last night?”

“She was with me,” replied Giles.

“The devil she was! So your mother was VChat were

you doing, the pair of you?”

“Dinner and theatre,” said Giles. “And mother was quite
right. She usually is.”

Charles Carrington coughed, and changed the subject
rather hastily.

Giles did not spend much of the afternoon in .^dam Street.
At four o’clock he put a call through to Scotland Yard, and
having ascertained that Superintendent Hannasyde was in the
building, left his office and drove to Whitehall. The news of
Roger Vereker’s death was in the evening papers, and several
glaring posters announced a startling sequel to the Stocks
Mystery.

At Scotland Yard Giles was conducted almost immediately
to Hannasyde’s office, where he found not only the Super-
intendent, but Sergeant Hemingway as well.

237

238 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

"I tathet expected you to look in,” Hannasyde said. “Sit
down, won’t you? I’ve just had the teport on the P.M. You
were quite tight, Mr. Carrington: Dr. Stone considers that the
pistol must have been fired from a distance of about two
feet.”

“When, in his opinion, did death occur?” Giles asked.

The Superintendent glanced dc wn the tj'pewrittcn report.
“Always rather a dilTicult question,” he said. "Approximately,
between lo.o p.m. and 2.0 a.m.”

“Thanks. Was anything found in the flat?”

“Nothing useful. A slight trace of oil on the handle of the
sitting-room door, .and a fingerprint — Miss Verckcr’s — on
the cartridge case.”

“It was her gun, theu^”

“Yes. Slit* \va.s here only half an hour ago” — he sixuled
faintlj- -“disp]a\ing tlic greatest interest in the business of
taking an impression of her own hand.”

“That r tan imagine. \nd the position of thtf cartridge-
case?”

“You win over tliat too.” He paused, and looked squarely
at Giles. “You may as well know it now as later, Mr.
Carrington; the evidence of the other members of that party
at the Albert Hall does not bear out the story told me bv Miss
Rivers and Mr. Vereker. As a matter of fact, I was on the
point of going to the studio when you rang up.”

Giles nodded. “I sec. I’ll come along, if you don’t mind.”

“No, T don’t mind,” said Hannasyde. “I’ve no power to
stop you if I did. It’ll probably sa\e time if you come, as I
imagine Mr. Vereker would be quite likely to refuse to talk
until he’d consulted you — if only to annoy.”

Kenneth, however, when they found him a little while later
at his studio, seemed to be in one of his more cheerful moods,
and showed no desire to be obstructive.

His sister was present, and also Violet Williams and Leslie

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 239

Rivers. It was evident that they had foregathered to discuss
the situation, and equally evident that Kenneth himself was
paymg very httle heed to what they were saying Giles and
Hannasy de entered the studio to discover lum sketching idly
on his knee. He looked up as the door opened, and said* “I
thought as much. A la latiteruel^'

Antonia betrayed neither surprise nor dismav at the
Supt tmtendent’s arri\al, but the other two girls looked a trifle
startled. Leshe threw a swift, atmous look at Kenneth, and
seemed to stiflen herself.

Kenneth continued to sketch “C ome in and make your-
selves at home,” he incited. “I uon’t say I’m pleased to see
\ou, because that wouldn’t be true ”

‘‘You don’t alwavs stick so rigidly to the tiuth, I think,
Mr. Vcrekci,” said IJannasyde, closing the door Khmd him.

Kenneth smiled “Neatly always Soraetinjcs I get led
astray, I admit. Tell me the worst ”

“Three of the other members ot tout party h<t night state
that for about half an hour you were missing from the ball-
room,” said Hannasyde without beating about the bush.

Kenneth looked up from his sketch His eyes were
narrowed and keen, but they were focused not on Hanna'- vde,
but on I eslie Rivers.

“You’ve rather a mce shaped head Leslie,” he remarked
“Don’t move' Sorry, my friend-the-Superinttnd< nt Any-
thing clse^”

“To be missmg from the ballroom at a dance for half an
hour IS not unusual,” said I eshe. “One sits out occasionally.
Superintendent ”

“In a box. Miss Rivers. There is not, I believe, very much
accommodation for sittmg out anywhere else at the Albert
Hall.”

“Except outside m one’s car,” she rephed.

“Hush, misguided duldl” said Kenneth. “The most

24° DEATH IN THE STOCKS

elementary methods will discover that my car went to Hornet’s
Garage to be de-coked yesterday. Am I not right, Super-
intendent?”

“Quite,” said Hannasyde. ‘^\nd am I not right, Mr.
Vereker, in saying tliat you left the Albert Hall by the main
entrance at twenty minutes past ten, and returned just before
eleven?”

“Pausing on both occasions to exchange a few words with
the commissionaire,” added Kenneth, still at work on his
sketch. “IhuS doing what I could to stamp myself on his
memory'. The question which is worr\ mg y ou at the moment
is, of course. Am I diabolically cunning, or incredibly
stupid?”

“Don’t pay any attentiem to him'” Leslie said quickly,
“’I'his IS ail nonsense- esety word <^f it' Ik didn’t leaye the
Albert Hall until we came away afnr four o’clock, together.”

Kenneth tossi d the sketch aside. “ ' ly dear girl, do, do diy
up! I’m sick of this imoKcd story, anyway', but*don’t you
reali?e that at .any moment now my friend-the-.'superintendcnt
IS going to produce that commissionaiie out of his hat to
identify me?” He glanced at Hannasyde. “Well, my friend,
produce him' Let it he admitted that T did leave the Albert
1 Jail during the course of the evening. It does not follow that
I went to my half brother’s flat, and y ou know it. You ha\ c —
as they say m American hlms — notlung on me.”

“(.th yes, I have, Mr. Veteker,” replied Hannasyde quietly.

Kenneth looked contemptuous. “(3nc pipe, which I m.ty
have left m Roger’s flat four nights ago.”

“Not only your pipe. An automatic pistol also.”

“I shouldn’t build on it,” said Kenneth. “At a rough
estimate, half a do?en other people could have laid their hands
on that pistol.”

'■'‘1 lad half a dozen other people any motives for killing
your half-brother, Mr, Vereker?”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS Z41

“Not having been in Roger’s confidence, I can give you no
information on that point,” repUed Kenneth.

The Superintendent looked at him under his brows. “What
sort of a hat were you wearing last night, Mr. Verckcr?”

Kenneth smiled. “I’nworthy of you, my friend. Didn’t
your commissionaire tell you?”

“1 asked you.’’

“Don’t answerl” I.tslie said, gripping her fngers together
in her lap.

Violet’s cool, V ell-inodulatfd voice interrupted: “Really,
Leslie, you arc making yourself positively lidiculous. Vou
had much better keep quiet, if you don’t mmd ray saving so.
"i'ou seem to me to ]i<i\ c done quite enough harm already.”

Leslie flushed, and answered rather imsteadih': “It's east
for you to be superior. I’e// weren’t at the ball, iav aren’t
involved! W hat do } ou care?”

“You foigct, I think, that J am engaged to be married to
Kenneth.”

Leslie was silent. Kenneth said: “J.eave the kid alone,
Violet. If she’s misguided, at least it’s with the best in-
tentions.”

“Oh, certainly, mv dear.” Violet said silkily. “But her
anxiety to make us believe that you were with her all the
evening would almost lead one to suppose that she. wmuld
like to prove an alibi ftjr herself.”

Antoni a removed the ci garette from her mouth. ‘ ‘( ’at,’ ’ she
remarked.

Hannasyde interposed. “1 am still w^aiting to know what
sort of a hat you wore last night, Mr. Vercker.”

“A black felt,” said Kenneth.

“Thank you. When you left the Albert Hall shortly before
ten-thirty, where did you go?”

“Tliat questitm,” said Kenneth, ‘ t iUSt regretfully decline
to answer.”

242 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

There was a short pause. Violet looked towards Giles, who
had strolled to the other end of the studio, and was standing
by the window, one hand in his pocket, his shoulders propped
against the wall.

ou rtah^e, do ) ou not, Mr. Vereker, that your refusal to
answer me maj have extremeU serious consequences^’*

“Produce your handcuffs,” recommended Kenneth
flippantly .

Giles’s eves tested thoughtfully on Hannasyde’s face. It
was quite imjtassive, nor was there much exprc<!SJon in
Hannasyde’s voice as he said “Viry well, Mr. Vereker. If
you are deteimined not to answer, I have no option but to
detunyou ”

tjiles carefully tipped the ash off the end of his agarette
He still said nothing

lvcnncth’« brows tost ‘\ow, I thought you’d arrest me,”
heiematled “Why don't vou-*”

1 he SupcrinteiKknt made no re]>lv Antonia go^up rather
suddenlv , and said w ith a curtness winch informed ill those
who knew her how much ilarmed she was “Ci lies' For
God’s sake, whv don’t you (’o somelhinga”

He said in his calm way “ Iheie is nothing I can do at the
moment, Tony Don’t panic ”

“But It’s impossible' You’re making an absurd nustake,
Supermtendent'” Leslie cried “He didn’t do it' 1 L-ow he
didn’t do It’”

Violet, who had turned very pale, fixed her eyes on
Hannasyde’s face and said slowly “One sees, naturally,
that the evidence is very strong, but surely vou are being
a httle hasty^ I mean, Kenneth isn’t the only person who
could have done it \nd I must say — ^though I know
perfectly well that it won’t be appreciated — tlut I should
hke very much to know what Tony was doing last
night.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS i45

“Thanks, we’ll cut out that bit,” said Kenneth. “Tony was
out with Giles, as you very well know.”

“You needn’t look at me hke that,” Violet said. “I know
she says she was with Mr. Gurmgton until twelve, but
personally I feel — ■ — ”

“No one is interested in your feelings, personal or other-
wise. Dryupl”

She rose, a spot of colour on each cheek. “It’s no use
talking to me m that rude way! I’ve a right to say what I
think — ^more right than Leshc Rivers, let moiteh you! Of
course, [’m getting used to being snubbed in this household
whenever I open ray mouth, but I’ll thank you to temembct
that I’m } out fiancee, Kenneth!”

He looked at her m a detaclied way, as though he found her
a curious but not uninteresting spedmen. “Funny,” he
remarked. “I’ony always said you h.td a streak of vulgarity.
I see what she means now.”

“How date you insult mr?” she flashed, her lips fliin with
anger.

“If you don’t want me to insult you, lay oft my sisterl” he
said, a hard light in his eyes.

“I shall do no such thing. You’ve behaved like a fool ovei
the whole of tins affair, but if you won’t help yourself you
needn’t think I shall keep my mouth shut! If tou weren’t
utterly selfish you’d try and understand my pomt of view.
You don’t suppose I’m gomg to enjoy seeing y ou arrested for
murder, do you? You haven’t even thought of wliat will
happen to me if they convict you!”

“No,” said Kenneth, with a crooked smile. “I haven’t.”

“Well, I have thought! And I want to know whether
Tony really was with Mr. Carrington till midnight. You
needn’t tell me that Murgatroyd saw him bring her back
here: Murgatroyd would say anything. In fact, it wouldn’t
suiprise me at all to discover that she had a great deal

244

DrATH IN THE STOCKS

more to do with both diese murders than we’ve any idea
of!”

“One moment, Miss Wilhams,” said Giles “You arc
forgetting my evidence, aien’t vou^”

“No, Mr Carrington, I’m not. Eut it’s quite obvious that
t ou’d say oi df) an> thing to shield Ton) I’m sorry if you’re
offended, but 1 can’t and J won’t stand b\ and see Kenneth
taken to prison for want of a little plain speaking'”

At this point Hannasyde interposed by asking Kenneth if
he was ready to go with him.

“No,” said Kenneth, “I’m not. I want a word in private
with mt cousm ”

“( ertainly,” Hannasyde replied

“f ome to my room, will \ou5” Kenneth said to CjiIcs
“I’ve no intention of lunnmp away. Superintendent so you
needn’t worn ”

f riles followed him out of the studio and across the little
hall to his bedroom 1 le shut the door and watch^ Kenneth
sit ilown on the end of his bed Kenneth had a taut look about
him, and when he spoke it was a little jerkily
“Croon' 'lou’rem solicitor \V hat do I do now
“Keep your mouth shut,” answeied (riles without
hesitation. “Were you at Roger’s flat last night, or were you
not"''”

\ faint smile flickered in Kenneth s cits “Wouldn’t you
hke to know ^ ’

“If I don’t know, f tell you m all senoumtss, Kenneth, I
won’t touch yt/ui case ”

Kenneth shmefred “T hasen’t needed you so far, but it
looks as though I mat I was in Roger’s flat ”

“At what hour^”

“Precisely the hour specified by our clever detective ”
“\!Chat did you go there for, Kenneth'^”

“Private affairs.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS 245

“Luckily I can interpret that,” said Giles. “You went to
see if Violet Williams was there, didn’t you?”

Kenneth flushed, * ‘ What a lively imagination you havel ”

“Was she there?” C>ilcs demanded.

“She was not.”

“Quite sure of tliat?”

“Quite.”

“Your error, in fact.”

Kenneth bursf out laughing. “Yes, blast you! My error.”

“Why did yttu tlunk she was, Kenneth^”

“My unfortunate temperament,” said Kennetli lightly. “J
thought that might ha\x been tht reason she turned me down
at the last minute over that b.tll. So I wont to jcc for my^selt.
She wasn’t there, and hadn’t been.”

“Did you part w ith Roger on good terms?”

“No, not at all”

(jiles sighed, “’’^/hynor^ What was there to qu’rrel oyer
if Violet hadn’t been there.'*”

“J could always And something to quarrel over with
Roger,” replied Kenneth. “In this case u was his Advice to a
Young Man about to marry. But I didn’t kill him.”

“All right, leave it at that. Does Violet know?”

“What, that I went to the flat in search of her? You bet she
knows! Haven’t y'ou notiretl the air of outraged virtue^ If f
have the least regard ft/t her feehngs or my own dignity, I
shall keep m\ disgraceful conduct to my'self. How long am f
likely to be in jug?”

“1 hope not more than a day or two. Don’t amtoy the
police more than you can help.”

“The temptation,” said Kenneth, getting up and opening
the door, “is pretty well irresistible!”

Hannasyde was waiting for him in the hall, and at sight
of him Kenneth’s eyes gleamed. ‘ Hush! Not a word'”
he said. “This is where J fade out, skipping the leave-

DEATH IH THE STOCKS

246

takings. On your way, my ftiend-the-Superintendcntl”
Hannasyde, propeUed towards the front door by an
insistent liand on his elbow, looked back to say: “I’ll send a
man roundto fetch what JVIr. Verekcr needs. Would you ask
Miss Verckcr to pack a suit case, Mr. Carrington?”

“Tell her to shove my sketching-block in, and the usual
appurtenances,” ordered Kenneth “I’m going to do a series
of black-and-whitt poheemen. After you — ^Macduffi”

Giles went back into ihc studio. Violet v as standing by the
fireplace, her iips stjU tJghtJ\ compressed and a look in her
face more of exasperation than concern. I eslie had put on her
Jiat, and seemed to be on the point of departure. Antonia was
lighting a cigarette from the stub of her old one. They all
three looked towards the door as Giles entered, but it was
Violet w ho spoke “U elP” she said “ here’s Kenneth^”
“Gone,” replied Ciiles unemotionally.

“Gone'” exclaimed Antonia. “I quite thought you’d be
Jile to tlmik of something, (jilcs. Couldn’t you get him out
of It?”

“Not yet, Tony'. Don’t worry, he’ll be all right ”

“I think,” said Vio'ct, in a soict of still anger, “that that is
the last straw'”

“Oh, damn tou, shut upl” snapped Antoma. “IIow' could
he help going^”

Violet spoke with meucidous pohtencss. “\\ ill you please
not swear at mt^ I am quite aware that he had to go, but I
don’t in the least understand why he could not take the trouble

to say good-bye. It is a piece of rudeness which ”

“If you don’t hold your tongue there will be a third
murder,” said I eshe, with deadly calm. “You’ve said more
than enough already. In fact, there’s only one thmg you
foigot, why didn’t you advise the Superintendent to inquire
into my movements last mght?”

“I am quite sure that he had done so, dear,” rephed Violet

DEATH IN ^HE STOCKS i47

sweetly. “Not that I think you did the murder, for, after all,
what motive could you have^”

“If It comes to that, uhat motive could Tony have liad?
She doesn’t inherit ”

“Not while Kenneth is ahve,” agreed Violet, with meaning
Antonia, not in the least indignant at this remark, frowned
thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t know,” she said. “I should
have to be pretty liaid boiled to commit three murdtr> It
would be dam’ sillv too, because I’d be bound to get caught
ouc ”

“It seems to me that any one of norm il intelligence ran get
away with murder,” said Violet srornfull) “What have the
pohee done over this ease' Absolutely notiimg' They ’ve no
idea who murdered Arnold Vereker, and the best they can
think of to do now is to arrest Kenneth I ttcrly obtious, and
utterly brainless.” She bent and picked up her glo\es and
handbag from the chair w here she had left them, and began to
draw on her glo\es, working her hiigei*- into them ‘ There’s
no pomt in mv sta\ing,” she said Tf Mr. C arrmgton can’t
hf Ip Kenneth, I am sure I can’t ”

Gilts made no reply to this, but when tlic gloves were at
last on, he moved in his leisurely wa\ towards the doot, and
opened it for Violet to pass out

“Well, Tony,” she said, tucking her bag under her arm,
if I’ve said an^thmg I shouldn’t, I’m sorry, but this thing is
getting absolutely on my neivcs You had better come along,
too, Leshe, Tony wants to talk to her cousin ”

I eshc said stifflv “Of course But please don’t wait for
me. I’m not going your way ”

“Oh, )ust as you like, my dear,” Violet rephed, shrugging
She walked to the door, but paused thcie as a thought
occurred to her “I don’t know if you’ve any of you realized
It, but there’s one person we’ve left out of our calculations.
Where wtas Mr. Mesuner last mght?”

D L A *1 H IN T"H E S 1 O C K S

2^8

“Old Boys’ Dinner,” said Antonia briefly,

“Rcalh ? But It wouldn’t have been impossible for him to
have left earh , I suppose.”

“I do Wish vou’d stop makinij fatuous suggestions/’
Antonia sighed “Vfhat on earth should induce Rudolph to
murder Rogcr^”

ou needn’t be so hii^h-and m ghty, m\ deal. 1 can think
of one \( IV good reason We all know th^t he said he meant
to murder Arnold because of his— well, rcallv, 1 must call it
pilfinnfi \ow, if Roger knew about tint, and mcmt to
prosecute — ”

“You’re missing on all jour c)llndcr^,” interrupted
Antonia “R<>ger knew, and he told Rudolph he wouldn’t do
am thine ibout it And if vou don’t beluat me, 1 wrote i
letter to Royer, thanking lum ( an’t \ou tlvnk oi somebodv
else to suspect*^”

Violet ga\e a little laugh “Oh, nothing t ^ay will meet
with approval ill this house* I’m well aware of t Rat Crood
bvc. Air C arrington Ko, please don’t bother to see me out.
r know my way ”

“Of course, she ]ust had to saj, ‘T know my wav,’”
commented Antonia glooimlv, as Cjjles, d^sr^.g^rduig lici
icquest, went with Violet to the tiont door “T used to collect
lier d/i/tf at iiisL, but it got so boring 1 ga\e it up. Ihis is a
most s^nguinarv affair, ] cslic ”

“T know, ’ I tslie said “Onl\ don’t wcjrry old thing I’m
absoluteh sure Kenneth diiiii’t do it, and the\ praetieally mef
eonviet the wiong person Tf there’s the least doubt ”

“Tliey gi\ c them penal serv itudc said Antonia in a hollow
V oiee “A ou needn’t tell me And he’d rather b( hanged than
that ”

I eshe patted her shoulder, and said with a gulp “They
won’t I — m certain they won’t ” Then, as Gile s c ^me back
into the room, she said “If that sickening female has gone

DEAl^ IN THE STOCKS Z49

I’ll push off too. Mr. Carrington, you’ll look after Tony,
won’t you, and +ry and cheer her up^ Good-bye, Tony
darhng. I’ll come round first thing m the morning. Good-
bye, Mr. C arrmgton ”

The door closed firmly behind her Antoma was left alone
with her cousin She said forlornly ou needn’t be afraid
I’m gomg to cry, because I'm not ”

He sat down beside her. ^‘There’s notlung to cry about,
cluckcn,” he said

Sh^ turned a ratliei wan face toward*^ hitn ‘^^iilcs, I have
such a phastl\ tear that he may liavc done it after all'”

^‘Ha\c >ou, I ony-^ Would you like to bet on it--” he asked,
smiling

Her eyes questioned lum “Vou don’t thmk he did^”

“J’m \<ry nearly certain he didn’t,” replied Giles
( arnmrton

CH.\PTr-R XXII

Ihis pronouncement did not have quite the desired effect, for
after staring at (jilcs blankly for a moment or two Antonia
tried to smile, failed, and felt a choking lump rise in her
throat, (jilcs saw her face begin to pucker, and prompth
took htr in his arms. “Don’t cry, Tony darUngl” he said
gently. “It’s going to be all right.”

Antonia hid her face in his shoulder, and gave way to her
overwrought feelings. However, she was not one to indulge
in an orgy of tears, and she soon stopped crying, and after one
or two damp .sniffs, s.u up, and said shainef acidly. “Sorry.
I’m all right now. Hianks for being nice about it.”

t Jilcs irew liis handkerchief out of his pocket, and com-
pelled Antonia to turn her face towards him.* He looked
down at hir lovingly, and said; “T won’t kiss a wet face.
Keep still, my lamb.”

Antonia submitud to having her tears wiped away, but
stammered, rather red in the face: “D — don’t talk rot,
(.lies!”

“I’m not talking rot,” he replied, and took her in his arms
again, tins time not gently at all, and kissed her hard and long.

Antoma, unable to utte^" any protest, made one feeble
attempt to push him away, and tlien, finding it impossible,
grasped his coat with both hands and clung to him. When she
was able to speak she fust said, foolishly: “(ih, Giles!” and
then: “1 can’t! I mean, you don’t really — I mean, we
couldn’t possibly— I mean ”

“You don’t seem to me to know w'hat you mean,” said
Giles, smiling into her eyes. “Luckily”, I do know what I
mean.” He possessed himself of her left hand, and drew the

250

DLATH IN THE STOCKS

251

ring from her third finger, and put it into her palm, closing
her fingers over it. * ‘You’D send that back to Mcsurier
to-night, Tony. Is that quite clearly understood?”

“1 was going to, anyhow,” said '\ntonia. “But — but if you
actually mean you want to ni-marry me instead, I can’t see
how >ou can possibly want to.”

“I do actually mean that,” said Giles. “Just as soon as Tve
finished with tWs affair of Kennetli’s.”

“But 1 can’t think Uncle Charles would like it if you did,”
objected Antonia. c

“You’ll find that he’s bearing up quite well,” icplicd Giles.
“Will 5 ^ou marry me, 'fony?”

She looked anxiously it him. “Arc you utterly sure, Giles^”
He nodded. ‘ Because you know what a beast f can be, and it
would be so awful if - if you were only pi(»posing to me in a
weak moment, and — and 1 accepted you, and then you
regretted it,”

“I’ll tell j ou a secret,” he slid. “I Io\e you ”

Antonia suddenly dragged one of his hpnds to her cheek.
“Oh, darling (riles, I’ve only just realized it, but IVe been in
love with you for years and years and years!” she blurred out.

It was at this somewhat inopportune moment that Rudolph
Mesurier burst hurriedly into the studio. “I cmie as soon as T
possibly could!” he began, and then checked, and exclaimed
in an outraged voice: “Well, really! I mm I say!”

Antonia, quite unabashed, went, as usual, straight to the
point. She got up, and held out the ring. “You’re just the
person I wanted to see,” she said naively. “Giles says I must
give this back to you. I’m terribly sorry, Rudolph, but —but
Giles wants me to marry him. And he knows me awfully
well and we get on together, so — so I think I’d bcircr, if you
don’t mind very much.”

Mesurier’s expression was more of astonislimcnt than of
chagrin, but he said in a dramatic voice: “I might ha\e

9

DE.ATH IK THE STOCKS

known. I might have known I was hving in a fool’s patadisc.”

“Well, it’s jolly nice of you to put it like that,” said
Antoma, “hut did you really think it was paradise? 1 rather
got the idea that most of the time you thought it pietty
helhsh. I don’t blame you a bit if you ^d, because as a matter
of fact I thought it was fairly hellish myself.”

This frank admission threw Budolph momentarily out of
his stride, but after a few seconds’ pained discomfiture, he
said with a good deal of bitterness- “I can’t grasp it yet. 1
expect I shall presently. Just now I feel merely numb. I don’t
seem able to reahze that everything is over.”

“You can’t really think that everything’s over merely
because we’re not going to be married,” said Antoma
reasonably. “I expect y ou only feel numb because T took you
by surprise, 'i ou’ll be quite thankful when t ou do realize it.
For one thing -vou won’t have to have bull terners in your
house, and you know you never really liked them,”

“Is that all you can say?” he demanded. “Is dut the only
crumb of comfort y ou can find?”

It was apparent to Giles that Mesutier was enjoying
himself considerably. He rose, feehng that the jilted lover
did at least deserve to hold the stage alone for the last time
“Fm sorry about it, Mesimer,” he said plcasantlv. “But
Tony made a mistake. I expect you’d like to have a little talk
with her. I’ll go and get Murgatroyd to help me pack
Kenneth’s suit-case, Tony ”

Mesutier was so much interested in this that he forgot his
r6le for a minute. “Why, what’s happened? Is Kenneth
going away?”

“He’s gone,” said Antonia, recalled to present tnals with a
jolt. “He’s being detained, whatever that means.”

"\Ty God ” said Mesutiet deeply.

Giles went out of the studio, and shut the door behind him.

Twenty minutes later Antonia joined him m Kenneth’s

DEATH IN THE STOCKS *55

bediootO) tematking with a sigh of telief that Rudolph had
gone at last.

“And a good job tool” said Murgatroyd, fitting a bulging
sponge-bag into the suit-case that lay, half-full, on the end of
the bed. ‘ ‘If it wcten’t for this dreadful thing that's happened
I should be congratulating you from the bottom of my heart.
Miss Tony. But when I think of my poor Master Kenneth,
locked up in a horrid cell with ten to one no proper bed or
anything — weU, it’s just too much for me' I can’t seem to
take mucli notice of anything else. Not that «hirt, if you
please, Mr. Giles; it’s only just back from the laundry.”

“Giles says he doesn’t think Kenneth did it,” said Antonia

“Thank you for nothing'” retorted Murgatto\d. “He’d
better not let me heat him say anything else, that’s all. Him
or anyone. There’s a case for those brushes, Mr. Giles. You
'cave them to me.”

Antoma picked up a folding leather photograph frame from
the bed, and grimaced at Violet’s classic features. “What on
earth do you want to put this in for, Giles^” she inquired.
"Just when he seems to be going off her, too. He won’t want
it.”

“You never know,” Giles answered, “l^ut it in.”

The rest of the packing was soon done, and in a few
minutes Giles had locked the suit-case, luid set it on the
ground. “1 shall have to go, Tony,” he said. “Promise me
you won’t worry!”

“I’ll try not to,” said Antonia dubiously. “What are you
going to do?”

“Save some constable or other the trouble of having to
fetch Kenneth’s things,” he replied.

She raised her eyes to his face. “Shall T see you to-morrow?”

He hesitated. “I’m not sure. I tliink probably not until
late, if at all,” he answered. “I’m going to be pretty busy.”

“Busy for Kenneth?” she asked quickly.

Zf4 DEATH IK THE STOCKS

“Yes, busy for Kenneth.” He took her hands, and held
them clasped together against his chest. **Keep s milin g,
chicken. Things aren’t desperate.”

“You’ve found out something!” she said. "Oh, what is it,
Giles?”

“Ko, I haven’t,” he said. “Tliat’s what I hope to do! At
present I’ve only got a suspicion. I’m not going to tell
you any more in case I’m wrong. But I do tell you not
to worry.”

“All righ^,” .she said. “If jou say I needn’t I won’t.”

It was past six o’clock when Giles Carrington left the
studio. He deh\ered the suit-case first, and then, after a
glance at his wrist-walch, drove to the Temple, and changed
int(' evening dress. JIis subsequent proceedings might not
have seemed to Antonia to be the actions of a man trying to
aid her brother. He visited three cocktail-bars, four hotels,
one night-club, and two dancc-lialls. He partook of refresh-
ment m all of these resorts, and engaged various head-
w'ailers, assistant-waiters, hall potters, and pa^c-boys in
conversations which they at least found profitable. He
reached his flat again in the small hours, swallowed a couple
of aspirin tablets in the hope of defeating the inevitable head-
ache, and got tliank fully into bed.

In the morning, when his man brought in the early tea-
tray, he awoke with a good deal of reluctance, and said: “Oh,
God! Not tea. One of your pick-me-ups. And turn on my
bath.”

“Yts, sir,” said his man, thinking that it was funny of Mr.
Carrington to go out on the binge when his family was in
such a packet of trouble.

A bath, followed by an excellent pick-me-up, more or less
restored Gile.*!. He was able to face the task of shaving, and
even, when that was over, to partake of a very modest break-
fast. While he sipped a cup of strong coffee, he told his man

Dr.AtHINTHESTOCKS 255

to put through a call to Scotland Yard, and to ask for Super-
intendent Hanuasyde.

Superintendent Hannasyde, however, was not in tlie
building, and an inquiry for Sergeant Hemingway was equally
fruitless. The voice at the other end of the telephone was
polite but unhelpful, and after a moment’s reflection Giles
thanked the unknown, said that it didn’t matter, and rang off.
His next tall was to his own office, and his man, hovering
discreetly in the background, had his curiosity whetted by
hearing that \lr. Carrington was to be told that Mr. Chles
Canington had important business out of town, and would
not be at the office tliat day. It was certainly a queer set-out,
and what Mr. Giles Carrington thought he was playing at
heaven alone knew.

At half-past five in the afternoon Giles walked into Scot-
land Yard and once more asked for Superintendent Han-
nastde. Ihis time he uas more fortunate; the Superintendent
had come in not half an hour cailici. He was with the
Assistant C ommissioncr at the moment, but if Mr. ('atrmgton
would cate to v ait? Mr. Carrington nodded, and sat down to
wait for twenty minutes. At the end of that time he was
escort cd to I lannast de’s o ffice, and found I laimasy dc standing
by his desk, a sheaf of papers m his hand.

Hannasyde looked up. “Good afternoon, Mr. Carrington.
I’m sorrj' 1 was out when you rane up this morning. T’lc had
lather a busy day.” He looked more narrowly at (riles, and
said: “Sit down. ou look as though you’d been having a
busy day too.”

“I have,” said Giles, sinking into a chair. “And a still
busier night. What I want to know is, tLd your men find
anything that had any possible beaiing on the case when they
searched Roger Vcrcker’s flat yesterday?”

Hannasyde shook his head. “No, nothing. VC as that what
r you wanted me for this morning?”

DEATH IN IHE STOCKS

“Partly that, and partly to let you know what I’d been
doing.” He moved rather restlessly in his chair, frowning.
"I want to see that night-porter, by the way. I wish I’d been
present when the flat was searched.”

Hannasydc regarded him with some slight show of
amusement. “My dear Mr. Carrington, there was nothing
there other than what we saw.”

“Kenneth’s pipe? Oh, that’s not it> Kenneth had nothing
to do with either murder. I wanted >ou to come and piece
out the first murder with me to-day, but when I couldn’t get
hold of you 1 thought I’d better do it myself rather than hang
about perhaps for hours ”•

Haniusyde stared at him in astonishment for a moment,
and then drew out his chair from behind the desk, and sat
down in it. ‘T orgive me, Mr. Carrington, but have you been
drinking, or arc you )ust having a little )oke with me^” he
inquired.

A rather weary smile touched Giles’s bps “To be frank
with you, I’ve l^n drmking,” he answered. “Not quite
lately, but last night, from seven o’clock onwards. I had to be
so tactful, you see — ^pursuing what might have turned out to
be a wild and scandalous goose-chase.”

“Mr. f.arrington, what have you got hold of,” demanded
Hannasyde.

“Arnold Vereker’s murderer, I hope.”

** Arnold Vereker’s murderer^” exclaimed Hannasyde.

“Roger’s too. But if there was no clue of any kind in the
flat ”

Hannasyde drew in his breath. “What there was you saw,
Mr. Carrington,” he said patiently. “You saw the pipe, the
pistol, the half-finished letter in the blotter, the glass of
whisky-and-soda, and the note from — no, you didn’t see that,
now I come to think of it. Hemingway found it after you’d
left. But it hasn’t any bearing on the case that I can see. It

DEATH IK THE STOCKS »57

Kas only a note from Miss Vereker, thanking her half-brother

for ” He broke off, for Giles Qtrrington’s sleepy eyes had

opened suddenly.

"A note from Miss Vereker . , Giles repeated. *‘A
note — ^where was that found?”

f “Screwed up m a ball behind the coal-scuttle. I should say
that Roger Vereker meant to throw it into the fire, but missed
his aim. Do you mean to tell me ”

“Where was the envelope?” Ciilcs interrupted.

“Wt didn’t find it. I suppose Vereker had lu''kier shot
with that. I wish you would stop bemg mysterious and tell
me just what you’re driving at.”

“I will,” said Giles. “But when I think that if I’d only been
present when that flat was searched you and nor I \vould have
spent an entirely hellish twenty-four hours trying to induce

half-wits to identify a face However, 1 ’m glad Tve found

tile link lietween the two cases. It annoyed me not to be able
to present you with all the facts.” He saw the smouldering
hght in Hannasyde’s eyes, and smiled. “All right, all right,”
he said paafically. “Violet Williams.”

ITannasyde blinked at him. “Violet WiUiams?” he said.
“Are you seriously telling me that she murdered Roger
Vereker?”

“Also Arnold Vereker,” said Giles.

“She had never met Arnold Vereker'”

“Oh yes, she had,” replied Giles. “She was the dark girl
you couldn’t trace.”

Ilannasyde had been twirling a pencil bet^^ecn his fingers,
but he put It down at this, and sat a little straighter in his chair.
“Arc you sure of tliat?” he asked, watchLig Ciilcs keenly.

"I’ve found two waiters, one commissionaire, and the
leader of a dance-band to identify her photograph,” answered
Giles. “One of the waiters volunteewd the information that
he had several times seen her with Arnold Vereker, who was

258 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

an habitu^ of that particular restaurant. The conunissionaiu
also said that he had seen her with Arnold. The leader of the
dance-band did not know Arnold by name, but he recognized
his photograph. Tn fact, he said instantly that he was the man
who was with the most striking woman in the room that
night. He is an intelligent fellow, that musician — I’ve got his
name and address for you. He not only recognized both
photographs, but he was able to st^te on what date he saw the
originals. The locality — ^my dear Watson — ^was Ringly Halt,
uhich, as yo^ probably know, is a very popular road- house
about twenty miles to the east of Hanborough. And the date
(which was jmprinted on my observant friend’s memory by
the coincidence of its having been the date on which his
pianist "sprained his wrist and had to be replaced by a sub-
stitute) was funeiyth.”

“Good — God!” said Hannasyde \ery slowly. “Tut - she
never came into the case at all!”

“No,” agreed fiilcs. “And if she hadn’t committed the
second murder she never would ha\e con'c into thi case. She
said she had nc\er even set eyes on Arnold, both my cousins
said it; and not a soul came forward to cxpkxie that fallac'/.
hiorcover, no one ever w'ould have come forward. None i)f
my witnesses have any idea of her name, you sec.”

“But” — Ilannasydc was trying to pu/zle it out — “how did
she meet him? j\nd having met him, why did she Iccp it so
doik? Do you suggest that she set out to become acquainted
with him with the idea of murder in mind? ft’s almost
incredible'”

“No, 1 don’t think she did. From what Tve seen of hci (
imagine she staited with the intention pf getting Arnold to
marry her. Put when it came to marriage Arnold was very
wary. I le would never be caught by a girl of her type. I’ve no
doubt It didn’t take her long to realize that. She’s acute,
though not clever. And then she planned to get rid of him.”

yDr-ATII IN THE STOCKS 2J9

‘‘What made you suspect her in the first place?”

Giles reflected, “T don’t think T know. It first occurred to
me when Roger was killed, but it seemed wildly improbable.
Then 1 made an excuse to call on her, and it struck me —
perhaps because I was already suspicious — that she was a little
too anxious to convince me that she had an alibi for that
evening. 1 hat might have been my imagination, of course,
but it was enough to make me go back over everything I
knew about her, and add it up, and find what the total was.
To start with, I knew she was a gold-digger. My cousins were
continually pointing that out to her. Also, I saw her setting
her cap at Roger in a highly determined manner. She thinks
more of money than anything else; that was alwa^ s evident.
To go on with, I learned from Kenneth (I think you were
present too) that she was a close student of every kind of
detective fiction. In itself that didn’t mean anything, but
added to the rest it seemed to me to mean quite a lot. Thirdly,
Kenneth went to call on her on the night of Arnold’s murder
—and she was out.” He paused. “I ittle things like that —
not much in themselves. Also the fact that she w^as obviously
not in love with Kenneth. 1 could never imagine why she got
engaged to him. I remembered, too, that Miss Vcrcker had
told me, quite light-heartedly, that Violet had always been in
the habit of picking up s^ell to-do men in hotel lounges, and
that sort of tldng. Then came Roger’s death, "i'ou didn’t
know it, of course — how should but she did a thing

that evening that seemed to me stupid, and curi(juslv unlike
her. At the last moment she told Kenneth Veteker that slie
wouldn’t go with him to that Kill. She put his back up so
badly that he at once rang up \h’ss Rivers, and in\itcd her to
go in Violet’s stead. At the time I was merely surprised that
Violet had handled him so clumsily — for the altitude she had
adopted was that it would be indece.^t tor either of them to
appear at such a function. Now I think that she did it on

iCo DEATH IN THE STOCKS

putposc to ensoxe Kenneth’s going to the ball, and thtb
providing himself with an ahbi. She meant Roger’s death to
look hke a suicide, and it was she who launched the theory
that he was in a state of nerves on account of the pohce. That
was one of the most suspicious things she did, I thought. The
first murder had been so perfectly planned, and was so
successful, thal it went to her head. She’s a conceited young
woman, you know, and she ran away with the idea that if you
could fool people once you could fool them any numbei of
limes.”

Hannasyde nodded. “Ve^r/ often the way.”

“So I bebeve. ell, she was perfectly confident she could
stage a convinang suicide, but in case of accidents she took
care to provide herself with some sort of an alibi. Actually, it
wasn’t an abbi at all, but it might have worked if she hadn’t
made her fatal mistake.”

“Sometliing to do with that mjsterions letter,” Hannasjdc
said instantly.

“Yes, everything. You see, I was present when Miss
Vereker gave Violet WilOams that letter to post. She gave it
her on the night of Roger’s death — a//er sepen o' clocks lie
paused, and looked at Hannasyde. “>X hich meant, of course,
that having missed the six thirty collection it would catch the
next — don’t know the exact time, but I suppose not earber
than eight-thirty, and probably later. I have a great respect
for the Post Office, but I can’t bring myself to bebeve that a
letter posted at that hour can possibly be debvered at its
destination the same evening. Violet WiUiams must have
used tlie letter as an excuse to call on Roger at that un-
conventional hour.”

“\5'hat hour^” Hannasyde asked. “Have you any idea?”

“Sometime after eleven — when the girl she had invited to
spend the evening with her left — and certainly before twelve,
when she knew the main door would be shut.”

DtATHlNTHESTOCKS z6t

“Yes, I see. Coinciding with the entrance of the woman
who might have been Mrs. Delaford’s personal maid, and the
noise which thought to be a tjte burst, heard by Mr.
Muskett. Is there a possibility of her havmg delivered the
letter by hand paor to the arrival of her visitor?”

“No, I think not. She told me that her visitor came to
dinner with her, and I expect you’ll find tlrat she was speaking
the truth. She wouldn’t have liad time.”

There was a long silence. Then Hannasyde said rucfullj:
“If all this turns out to be true, you’ll have made me look
ratlier silly — Mr. Holmes.”

“Not at all,” replied Giles. “I only got on to it because
Fm on very intimate terms with my cousins, and have been
in a position to watch every move in the game at dost
quarters, as you never could.”

“I ought to liave thought of it,” Ilannasjde saidi “If it
hadn’t seemed so certain that she’d never met Arnold Vereker,
I must have thought of it. She was the only other peison who
had a motive.”

Giles laughed. “I really don’t think you can blame your
self f My young cousin has been building up far too damning
a case against himself to admit of your looking beyond him
for some really unhkely suspect. All the same, you’ve never
felt sure that Kenneth did it, have you?”

“No,” confessed Hannasyde, 'T haven’t. It alwajs seemed
to me that he was enjoying himself at my expense, for one
thing, and for another — ^if he killed Arnold Vereker, why the
stocks?”

“You gave up your first idea of a practical joke? Yes, that
was what made me sure it wasn’t Kenneth, and must have
been a woman, 'fhe more I thought about it the more certain
I felt that the stocks had an important bearing on the case.
Whoever stabbed Arnold wanted to get him in a helpless
position — ^in case, I suppose, the first blow didn’t kill him.

262 DEATH IN THE STOCKS

That pointed to a woman. Whether the stocks were a pre-
meditated feature I suppose we shall never know. I’m inclined
to think not. Perhaps Arnold’s tyre burst occurred in the
village, and Violet got the idea of using the stocks while she
was waiting for him to change the wheel. Or perhaps — since
it was a moonlight night— she caught sight of them when they
were driving tlurough Ashleigh Green, and got him to stop
then, on the spur of the moment. It must have occurred to
her that it would be safer to kiU him in the open than to wait
until they reached the cottage.”

Hannasvde did not speak for a moment or two. Then he
said: “What a case! I apologize for not taking your amateur
efforts seriously, Mr. Carrington. You ought to be in the
(’.T.D. That pistol, by the way, liad been recently oiled.
'Jhere should be traces of the oil on the gloves Violet Williams
wore, or in her liand-bag, where I suppose she carried it.
Probably not noticeable to her. What a fool she was to use
Miss Vercket’s gun! Suspicion was bound to fall^on young
Vereket ”

“Yes, bul she thought he was provided with a safe ahbi,”
Giles reminded him. “T don’t suppose, cither, that she could
lay her hands on any other pistol. Nor is she a clever woman
by .any means. I grant voti that she plaimed the first murder
neatly, but it was quite easy to kill Arnold and leave no trace.
When it come to staging a suicide it was tar mote JifT.cult.
There were no clues to destroy in the fir«t place, several in the
second.”

“A thoroughly diabolical young womanl” Hannasyde said
roundly'. “Now, Mr. (iarrington, if y'ou’ll let me have the
names and addresses of your witnesses

“Yes, certainly,” Giles said, smothering a yawn. “And
then perliaps you’ll release my client.”

Hannasyde said seriously: “I’m sorry for that boy.
This’ll be a bad business for him.”

DEATH IN THE STOCKS z6^

expect he’ll get over it,” Giles answered. “It wouldn’t
surprise me if, when he’s had time to recover from the shock
of it all, he and Leslie Rivers made a match of it.”

“I hope they will,” said Hannasyde, glancing sideways at
Giles. “And does Miss Vereker mean to marry JNIesuricr — er
— soon?”

Giles smiled. “No, that’s off. Miss Vcrcker has become
engaged for the third and last time.”

Hannasyde stretched his hand out across tlie tabic, and
gripped Giles Carrington’s. “Splendid!” he ^aid. “Many
congratulations! Yes, come in. Sergeant; while we’v-e been
chasing red herrings, Mr. Carrington has solved our case for
us . We shall have to let M r. Vereker go after all . ”

“Let him go?” said Hemingway. “You’ll have a job to
make him go. The last 1 saw of him he was asking what thej ’d
charge for board-residence till he’s finished a set of most
shocking pictures you ever laid eyes on. Porfrai/s oj i be Po/bCy
he calls them. Libels, 1 call them. Are we going to make an
arrest. Super?”

“Yes, thanks to Mr. Carrington. Just take down the
addresses he’s got for us, will you?”

The Sergeant drew out his notebook and opened it, and
moistening the tip of his pencil, looked at Giles, waiting for
him to begin.